


Lethality of Cheerful Laughter

by Gringos



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Drama, F/F, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Insanity, Romance, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-07-29 07:38:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 54,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7675795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gringos/pseuds/Gringos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tracer lies broken after Mondatta's assassination. Injured and with Widowmakers sneer stuck in her ears she forces herself home. To silence the doubts clawing at her mind, she needs to prepare and face her nemesis again for one last time. This story is rated Explicit because of insanity, death and smut. You have been warned ♡</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A little Slapstick never killed anybody

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story directly follows the events of the "Alive" short cinematic made by Blizzard about Tracer and Widowmaker. I strongly advice watching it beforehand if you haven't already, as the story will be hard to grasp at first without it.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZyBUMabtslI

_'Adieu Chèrie.'_

The words still rang in Lena's ears. They made her sick to the stomach. Well, either that or it was another reaction of her body, still recovering from the shock of hitting solid ground.

Lena heard the engines of an aircraft above the roof she was just flung off. She could only imagine that the Talon agent who got her into this predicament used it to leave the scene.

Pain in her chest made her wince. She writhed on cold concrete, shivered and whimpered pathetically. The weight of failure and loss concerning the brutal murder of her idol, Mondatta, and her inability to prevent it crashed in on Lena. It added to the numbing, physical agony coursing through her. Tears streaked down her cheeks as she forgot about herself.

_I can't just give in like that._

She had drowned in misery for what seemed like an eternity until Lena finally tried to force herself away from these destructive feelings.

_Tracer is a symbol of heroism!_

"…and how heroic I'm lookin' right now, eh?"

She chuckled at her own mockery, but still held onto the idea. As Lena was trying to steady herself, shakily lifting her body off the ground, she couldn't quite comprehend why she was alive at all.

Widowmaker could have easily finished her off, couldn't she?

Then realization hit her like a pair of violet heels. The skin around Lena's neck crawled with dread.

_She wants me to suffer._

 

 

* * *

 

 

Hours later a beaten and partly broken figure lay on the beige couch of her London apartment. She was stiff, everything hurt. Her combat-worn outfit was sprawled across the floor. Only underwear remained.

"Oi Doc."

The greeting was aimed at the blonde women in a turtle-neck sweater and doctors overall standing in the frame of the door. Lena had left that one open for this exact occasion. The Swiss doctor with the code name 'Mercy' was the only friend she would trust in moments like these.

As she tried to wave in greeting, Lena grinned, as she would normally do, only betrayed by a painful whimper. Angela didn't approve of what she saw at all. A soft scowl practically said as much as Angela was closing the front door behind her.

"Lena _Kleines_ , what happened?"

The doctor took long strides towards her new patient. Her blue eyes already started scanning over the ex-pilots body. At first she cupped Lena's cheek with one hand, quite motherly. Then she went on to check her patients temperature at the sternum.

"Got into a bit of a scuffle with Mondatta's killer. Blue gal didn't like that, pretty much threw me off a roof and smashed me against a wall! Can you believe it? Wouldn't one of the two have been enough?"

There was another scowl on Angela's face, this time quickly followed by a head shaking smirk. Seeing that reaction, Lena bit her lower lip while grinning.

" _Unglaublich_ … This was Widowmaker's doing then. How do you always get into these kinds of situations? That has to be my third doctorly home visit this year. You have to promise me to be more careful!"

Lena's grin melted into a smile. She was happy to see a friendly face, even if that face was in the process of telling her off. Their relationship was special. A little bit too special to Angela's liking, since Tracer made a habit of teasingly referring to the doctor as 'Mom of Overwatch'. Much to the doctor's detriment one might add, as newer recruits were beginning to pick up on the quip.

"Anyway, I'm just relieved that you're not riddled with bullets. Where does it hurt?"

"Uhm, everywhere? I kinda hit the floor Doc."

A quick press on Lena's outer ribs made her quit the joking. The resulting yelp was just added satisfaction for Angela.

"Y-Yes, there too! But I think it's just bruised. The worst part is the right leg, I could only hobble home..."

Angela's attention quickly shifted to the mentioned body part, expertly feeling around the knee of her patient. Then her voice got stern.

"You didn't really walk home this way, did you?"

Either the pointed question or the handling of her knee made Lena wince. Of course she had forced herself home. She couldn't possibly face the people she had failed. And the dread only a near death experience can provide made her decision to flee that much easier. Lena wasn't about to tell the doctor this, though. That would've been to embarrassing.

Angela let out a heavy sigh, as the silence prevailed.

"Your femoral neck is most likely fractured, Lena. We'll have to get you to the hospital and on an operating table, preferably tonight. I'm calling an ambulance."

Lena's bright, hazelnut eyes blinked as her heart fell.

"My what is what now?!"

Angela already reached for her smartphone. It was white and had a little blue figurine dangling on a cord attached. Looked like a bird… She regarded her patient with doctorly patience.

"Your leg is out of commission for a month. 3 weeks if you go through rehab without problems."

 

 

* * *

 

 

This was hell.

_What else would it be? It's boring as hell at least! The only thing missing would be the heat and demons._ _Demons would be fun. But there would be torture, wouldn't it? Eh, maybe this is more light pre-hell..._

Her mind drifted like this for hours on end and she couldn't do a thing about it. That was not or a lack of trying though. Angela had been here again today to tell her off for running around the halls with her violet crutches so soon after the operation. This went as far as grounding her in her room.

_She actually locked me in here like a child! 'Doctor's orders'..._

Angela's catchphrase was still fresh in her mind. She even stationed a guard at the door.

_An Overwatch agent!_

Lena couldn't help but fume at the thought. She couldn't know that this guard was not there to keep her grounded, but as precaution against Talon retaliation for her interference in the Mondatta incident.

While that was an annoyance, the boredom would turn out to not be the worst about her predicament.

As she twiddled her thumbs and stared at the ceiling all by her lonely self, a kind of darkness got hold of her. Her thoughts drifted to the scene of the murder. She reenacted her own narrow blink to escape a bullet that condemned her idol, Mondatta, to death. The image of the shocked crowd around the victim along with a piercing, female scream was etched into her mind. Widowmaker had predicted her every move. Lena still heard her condescending laugh loud and clear.

' _Foolish girl._ '

Shivers ran across Lena's body. She felt restricted in her movement, as if caught in a web. As if she was being played with, only left alive to despair in her failure and incompetence. And that solely to the delight of the hunter. It was getting harder to breathe. Gasps filled the silence of her room. She was sweating all over, as once more black dread gripped her heart.

' _You're having a panic attack, Chèrie_.'

The voice in her head only agitated her more. She felt herself tremble and shake, eyes wide as Widowmaker took slow strides towards her, cupping her cheek which burned in turn, gazing into her with those beautiful, cold, amber eyes, piercing into her soul. She could feel her very being consumed by dark sensations.

A loud  **BANG**  ripped her out of those hallucinations. Lena's gaze darted over to the entrance, still breathing heavily along with her racing heartbeat. She fully expected a slender, blue form wrapped in a violet body suit entering her room to finish the job. She couldn't be more wrong.

"Oh, oops. I didn't break it, did I?"

A large, sentient gorilla called Winston was staring at the door he had just slammed open. This was probably because he didn't pay enough attention while chatting with Lena's guard. That Overwatch agent was standing outside just behind the gorilla, shaking his head. Winston carefully put the door back on it's hinges and tested a few swings to see if it still worked.

"Everything okay, false alarm, heh!"

Finally he closed the door and shifted attention to his bedridden friend. A wide, shy smile beamed towards Lena as the large scientist and new commander of Overwatch was moving closer to her bed. What he saw to his surprise were tears in the Brits wide open eyes. Her chest was heaving and her hands gripping tightly onto the bed sheet.

"Uh, hi there Tracer! Is… everything okay? I didn't scare you, did I?"

Lena blinked a few times. She looked down and was quickly becoming aware of how she must look right now. Then she burst out laughing. She laughed so hard, one might think a dam broke somewhere inside the little Brit. Then she began to cry, smiling wide in stark contrast.

"WINSTON! Come here bigguy!"

Lena sounded more merry than she looked and threw her arms wide open. Suspicion made Winston hesitate whether he should call the doctor, but the smile and the happy voice of her friend made him go in for a hug all the same.

"There you go, one fresh hug, hehe."

He wasn't very good with people, but he always tried. Winston could feel her hanging onto him as hard as she could, while he just laid a huge hand on her back that was roughly the size of her head. Lena couldn't stop herself crying. Nearly a minute went by.

"Uhm. Is everything alright, Tracer? Do you still have pain?"

"N-No pain. You can call me Lena, luv!"

He flinched a bit. Maybe she wasn't in pain, but something was clearly off about her. Lena's attempt at sounding happy wasn't very convincing, betrayed by the tears getting tangled up in his hair. He also felt a bit awkward with the name thing, as he somehow couldn't get used to it.

"Sure. But uh, Lena? There is something bothering you, right?"

The Brit stiffened a bit.

"Maybe... I can help?"

Lena wasn't so sure. She shied away from the thought that anyone could help her with the burden of her failures and the panic inducing voice in her head. Her arms retreated from the great ape and she disengaged far enough so that they could see eye to eye again. The ex-pilot only lasted or a second before she had to look away. At least her crying had stopped at some point while hugging her friend.

Lena hesitated.

"I… I dunno Winston. It's just… I couldn't do anything… I guess didn't try hard enough…"

Tears welled back in her eyes, which prompted Winston to suppress a bit of panic himself. He really wasn't good at things like this.

"That's not true Tr-uh-Lena. You did everything that was possible!"

_Did I?_

"We all know you're the best agent we have against Widowmaker!"

Lena winced.

_Am I, really?_

"Genji would've been better… even Hana…"

"Nobody knows her better than you! How often have you two fought? You probably know Widowmaker in and out by now."

Lena erupted all of the sudden.

"And she knows me! She beat me knowing when I would act! How I would act!  _She toys with me…_ "

That last sentence was whined out in pure desperation. It made sense to him either way. Winston supposed that getting used to the opponents combat techniques would go both ways. Winston had no quick answer to that predicament, so he slumped back in thought. Absentmindedly, the great ape whipped out a can of peanut butter. It somehow always helped him think.

Lena stared at Winston in disbelief.

"What?", he asked, puzzled.

After a moment, Winston recognized that this probably wasn't very appropriate. But since he already accepted that he was bad at this 'human interaction thing', he opened the container anyway and scooped right in with one of his fingers.

Lena still stared and stared some more… and cracked out an incredulous laugh soon enough at the sight of Winston's social failings. She threw herself back into her bed with force and gave into a roaring fit of laughter about this ridiculous situation. She was louder than before, piercing the walls, echoing through open windows of the neighboring wing.

The sound prompted patients, visitors and doctors alike in the proximity of her room to perk up with knowing smiles and chuckles. Everyone knew Tracer and her vibrant personality. It was impossible to escape her cheerful nature.

Even for herself. She lay there grinning wide while her tears dried up..

_Why am I so serious? What happened to "Keep calm and Tracer on!"? I failed Mondatta, but that doesn't mean that I can just give up! I'm Tracer! A beacon of hope to the people! The cavalry and all that!_

Winston was sucking peanut butter off his finger while being quite impressed how this ball of energy in front of him just kept cheering herself. He certainly didn't do anything special, did he?

"I have an idea."

Lena blinked a few times, still grinning happily.

"I think... it's time to improvise. You're still the best we got, you know? If Widowmaker is used to fighting Tracer, maybe Tracer needs some new moves to surprise her with. Something to exploit her weakness of biased expectations."

Lena thought about that, staring at the white ceiling of her room. It came to the sentient gorilla that his idea was bordering on an insult to her abilities, to the point that he was about to apologize. A skilled fighter like Tracer surely already thought about using feints and ruses before.

**"You're a bloody genius Winston!"**

The gorilla blinked a few times, startled by Lena's sudden outcry. Apparently she hadn't.

"Uh, thanks."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Kleines ~ Little one_   
>  _Unglaublich ~ Unbelievable_


	2. Going Wild Eyed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena finds herself some new friends, Angela finds out that Cowboys are irresponsible and Widowmaker finds a reason to laugh.

Jamison Fawkes and Mako Rutledge were somewhat preoccupied.

Jamison more so than Mako. They stood in front of a giant metal vault door and Jamison, also known as Junkrat, tinkered happily on a network of explosives. All of them had lovely little smileys drawn on them in the colors that Jamison liked most: Yellow, orange and red.

"Y'know Roadhog, I 'ave ma doubts sometimes. With other jobs, y'know?"

"Hmm."

Junkrat stepped back. He was proud of what he saw and gaped at his creation with his mouth wide open. To some he may have looked like a child on Christmas Eve. Others might have wondered why the Australian arranged his explosives to look like a Christmas tree.

"But just look at this beaut! Brings a tear to ma eyes. She'll be apples!"

"Hmm."

"Yeah, you're righ'. Could use some more on the left side."

That's how their conversations always went. Mako didn't talk very much. He just looked over his shoulder once towards Jamison, nodded and then resumed keeping an eye on the entrance. A surprise waited for him.

" **Intruder**."

"Cheers luv!"

The most awkward silence took hold of the room, occasionally disrupted with mad screams of joy by the master demolitionist at the vault door. Tracer cocked her head to the side. When Jamison had distracted Mako to look away just now, this flimsy girl must've somehow slipped through the door. Now she was standing right in front of him.

" **Hi**."

"Yes, hi there! You were Roadhog, right? That's Junkrat over there?"

The large Australian with the pigface mask nodded. He seemed pretty calm for someone with a butchers hook and scrap shot gun ready in hand. Lena needed to focus though. The huge drawing of a pig face around Roadhog's belly button threatened to hypnotize her.

"Well, look luv, you know, I didn't want to keep y'all away from your… stuff that you do, but I wondered if you could spare a moment?"

"Hmm."

"Is that a yes?"

"Hmm."

"I take that as a yes!"

She blinked a few times at the mute guy. He was indeed strange.

_Nothing I can't work with! It's basically like rolling with Bastion._

Lena took a step to the side to look at Junkrat was doing there with his smiling Christmas tree.

"Huuuuh, that's really pretty!"

"I KNOW RIGH?! It's time mates! Time for the big KABOOM! Kihihihihi!"

Junkrat immediately jumped with joy as he found someone that appreciated his work. He ran a few steps back, giggling and tip toeing on the spot. On the ground in front of him was an almost comically looking trigger for the bomb prepared in advance. It was one of those where you fixate a box between your legs and just need to push down a bar. Junkrat did just that. Then the skinny Aussie squatted down in preparation of the blast, plopping both fingers in his ears, giddy with excitement.

"Issat safe..?"

"Hm-Hm."

Mako grumbled slightly in response behind his mask and gently pushed the awe-struck Tracer about three inches to the side.

The boom came and went, tossing Lena's hair around and licking at her clothes. A warm wave washed over her and she was quite happy that she still wore her aviators to watch the spectacle. Jamison on the other hand was catapulted in a rush of hot air, cheerfully laughing and screaming with record speed narrowly passing between the two. He was finally stopped by a solid metal wall, colliding with a dull 'Thump'.

Tracer was almost compelled to go help the poor little guy. A big, gentle hand held her back.

"Shouldn't we help him?"

"Hm-Hm."

A burned figure shakily arose from the smoke of the impact. The wall looked quite dented.

"FUCK ME SIDE WAYS!"

Junkrat looked anything but pleased and he announced as much in a tirade of Australian swears. Lena didn't even knew some of those existed. It took her a few more seconds to realize what made the skinny Aussie so angry.

Lena looked over her shoulder, where the vault door still stood strong.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“So wha izzit you want missy?”

Several moments later, the three of them were casually fleeing the federal bank of Chile amidst several alarms and sirens. While Tracer ran along, Junkrat had to be carried because he broke his makeshift leg in the explosion. While being carried, he lobbed smiling grenades here and there as they were jogging towards the exit, creating a debatably lovely atmosphere.

“Do you remember last time when we worked together, Junkrat? I said ‘Over my dead body’ speakin’ 'bout giving you one of my Pulse Bombs, yeah?”

Tracer tried to ignore the occasional screaming vault guard. That was kinda easy since Junkrat broke out into merry laughter every time he more or less accidentally hit one.

“Yeah, sure thing! Told ya that’s arrangable.”

“Well, you’re fresh in luck! I’m willing to trade, luv!”

Junkrat had a glint in his eyes when he thought about the shiny, sticky bombs that Tracer carried around. He liked shiny things the most, but most explosives sadly weren’t shiny.

“Why’z that all of’a sudden, if ya don’t mind a bloke askin’?”

“Let's just say I need to go _crazy_!”

And if she didn’t, Tracer thought, she’d probably lose her mind instead.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“She's where meeting who?!”

Angela had a tight grip on the cowboys ear, who had to angle his head sideways, lest he’d lose it.

“Ow Angie! Chile! The note said Chile and Junkrat! I’m SORRY!”

She knew that it had been a mistake to use Jesse as the guard. He had this irritating habit of holding siestas during work hours. Today was supposed to be Lena’s last ward round before she got discharged from hospital, but apparently something more important came up.

“You better _be_ sorry Jesse, because you’re going to be the one who finds her!”

Jesse knew better than to argue. He just threw her a bewildered look and rubbed his abused ear before heading off, his boots clinking softly into the high noon.

Once he was gone, Angela deflated and gave way for a wave of insecurity. She stared into the now former hospital room of her charge. Doubts clouded her mind, reminded her of her past failures concerning Tracer's arch nemesis.

“Lena, why on earth would you want to meet with a notorious criminal?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

_It's only logical._

_Isn't it?_

Lena shivered. Nobody else would’ve provided the help she needed, and she knew how to pull Junkrats strings. There was no room for doubt anymore, anyway. Every time she did doubt herself, a gorgeous and crazy French person clawed at the edges of her mind, taunting her past and future failures. Winston had opened her eyes. She needed to hurry ahead and change, never doubt, never look back.

_Surpass all expectations! Laugh in the face of death itself!_

Lena laughed out loud at the thought, full of energy.

The other passengers on the plane would’ve declared any normal person in her seat insane on the spot. Instead, they long since recognized her for the energetic hero that she was. They chuckled and smiled alongside her cheerful laughter. Many considered themselves fortunate for this moment! Maybe not so much if they had known what Tracer managed to smuggle aboard with the help of her newest business partners.

She grinned with wide eyes. Whatever plan she had was going splendidly.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_ Three weeks earlier, in the skies above London. _

She was exhausted.  _And it felt good._

For the first time in years she felt a painful strain in her limbs. Widow's Kiss weighed heavier than usual in her hands. The assassin put her head back to her neck and closed her eyes while standing inside the aircraft that transported her out of King's Row.

It was exhilarating, the thrill of the hunt still coursing through her. She tried to savor her duel with Tracer for as long as she could, reenacting the fight inside her head on repeat. The successful elimination was just the icing on the cake that was her monumental triumph over that sweet, foolish girl.

Never had she been closer to finally breaking this pesky girls spirit, who constantly picked fights with her. With her, the Widowmaker! She had high hopes that this mission would've done it, but the results vastly exceeded her expectations.

She allowed herself to laugh just as she did earlier into the face of her prey. It was almost comical how good she was at the stereotypically evil, French laughter.

"What's so funny?"

Widowmaker stopped dead in her tracks. She wasn't alone anymore. The raspy voice came from the cargo door. Black mist seeped in between cracks until a black-clad man called Reaper stood before her.

"Nothing. Other than your ridiculous entrance,  _monsieur ombre._ "

Widow only had biting remarks for her superior. She didn't trust this man that hid behind a skull mask. But Reaper was reliable in the sense that he was nothing but determined. There was no telling what he would do if he found out that Talons favorite pet laid off on her emotion numbing medicine. It wasn't her fault that Talon conditioned her to enjoy a kill. She wanted  _more_ , or boredom would threaten to kill her. She couldn't have that. A little mockery should serve to throw him off the trail, she thought.

They glared at each until Reaper finally broke the tension.

"Good kill."

Widow was slightly thrown off by the compliment. A long silence followed these words like a thick layer of fog, only disturbed by the engine sounds. Apparently Reaper had been watching her performance. Normally the only reason Reaper sought her out after a mission was to berate her. She wrecked her brain to think if there were any implications, but couldn't find a single reason why he would have cause to complain. 

Slowly, Widow raised one cautious, blue eyebrow.

"Thanks."

"You let her live."

Her surprise was palpable. She was so wrapped up in breaking Tracer, Widow couldn't even comprehend that not killing her could be conceived as failure. Of course, Reaper wanted all of Overwatch dead for his own reasons. She steeled herself and hid her emotions.

"I did."

_Because I wanted to._

"Why."

"She wasn't the target."

_Only I decide when she dies._

"Tracer is an Overwatch agent."

"She is. I found it more efficient to set an example."

_She's mine, not yours._

"Why not leave a dead body?"

"Breaking her spirit crushes morale like nothing else. She's their mascot."

_I'll enjoy watching her break. Don't you dare take this away from me!_

The quickfire exchange between the two made her feel sickened. He regarded her silently, watching for signs. They were close range. If Reaper felt like it, she would be ripped apart in a single clip of his Hellfire shotguns.

"Don't disappoint, Widowmaker."

Reaper visibly disintegrated in front of her, returning to a form of black mist. He disappeared the way he came. The tension in the cargo hold was slowly letting up.

A few more moment passed. Ever since Widow's emotions began to return, she rediscovered what it's like to just feel like laughing. This one urge was still the most curious of all to her.

Widow allowed herself a mischievous giggle, staring triumphantly at the cargo door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rushed the second part, so you guys could have a better idea of what this story is supposed to tell. This is going to be a wild story. I can't guarantee for anyone's safety~  
> No worries for Widowtracer, they will meet again in the next chapter. <3  
> This is by the way my first story and not my first language, so apologies if something is not to your satisfaction dearest reader. Feedback is very appreciated!


	3. It's her Destiny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse and Hana have a jolly good time, Reaper bullies staff members and Widow believes that Tracer can solve all her problems!

His head rang. Jet lag hit him hard, too.

Jesse could barely believe the Chilean security footage where Lena made herself liable as accomplice to some crappy Australian criminals. A quick phone call made sure that she was flagged as undercover. Then he tracked her down until the trail stopped here.

"Y'sure that she would be here of all places?"

"Of course cowboi! It's the WCS, duh! There's nothing bigger going on in SK!"

"I have a name, y'know…"

He stared at the big screen where some crazy pixels were battling each other. Meanwhile two guys on microphones were having a contest to see who could shout louder. He was surrounded by kids cheering and waving signs with D.Va on them. 'D.Va' was the nickname of the newest addition to Overwatch, Korean leader of the MEKA unit and E-Sports superstar Hana Song.

"Are you done soon?"

"Have you looked for her everywhere?"

"Three times over while you mopped the floor with the last 6 guys…"

"Well then do it again! I'm done in a sec cowboi, this 'Destiny' guy is a loser. Fitting name though."

He knew her well enough by now. Jesse braced himself for the stupid pun that had to be coming, already face palming.

"DESTINED TO LOSE LOL."

All Jesse wanted was his peace. Instead he had to go after Tracer over three different continents and now had to bear with D.Va on his communications channel.

_Couldn't get worse, really._

"Who the hell thought it was a good idea to play video games in an open air arena anyway…"

"It's the biggest around! Only fitting for best sport!"

"Sure, if you say so... but isn't it like cheating to have me on com with you? I mean, I can see him play."

"Yeah, that's why we have a ref in the channel with us."

"We have?"

"…"

"Does he speak English?"

"I don't think so, LOL!"

"So, uhm… make more of those flashy blue units. I think Destiny is going for the big dudes!"

"HEY!"

That made him chuckle for moment. At least until the jet lag hit him hard again. Right now was his usual siesta time.

_It's high noon somewhere in the world..._

Jesse plopped in his trusty foam earplugs and closed the shutters. Nothing would happen anyway.

 

 

* * *

 

 

She was crushing her opponent.

Destiny thought he was firmly in the top spot after establishing air control with mass Muta, but he hadn't seen her hidden tech yet. How that noob didn't overlord scout the island was beyond her. She decided to send a taunt, just to mess with the guy.

 _"D.Va:_ 이 쉬운 모드 인가?"

The crowd cheered thunderously beyond her soundproof glass box. She'd be the winner by the end of the night. Hana felt so confident, she just issued an attack command and leaned back for the sake of the spectacle, showing the peace sign to the crowd.

"My fans will love this! I can already see my view count explode tom-"

Hana felt a sharp pain in her cheek as something rushed past where her head had been just now. Sparks flew in front of her as a bullet smashed her computer screen at roughly 700 miles per hour, making her jump in reflex, away from the ruined monitor.

Her instincts kicked in. With the push of a wristband button, her trademark pink MEKA materialized in front of her, crushing part of the booth and the rest of her gaming rig.

_"D.Va disconnected."_

Once inside, she booted Starcraft in the on-board systems while scanning the area for her assailant.

_"D.Va reconnected."_

_"D.Va:_  나는 그것을 처리합니다! 겁쟁이 플레이!"

Hana erupted in hysterical laughter as a thin stream of blood trickled down from her cheek.

_Finally a real challenge!_

"Let's rock cowboi!"

Faint snoring could be heard on the other side of the com channel.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Reaper couldn’t believe his eyes. Indeed he checked if they came out right this time, formed them again just in case. Nope, pink mech still piloted by an annoying Korean rat that dreamed itself to be a bunny.

“Sir, she missed!”

The other agents quickly moved away from the new guy. A black claw grabbed the poor recruit and threw him against the next best wall for good measure.

“ _I can see that._ Anyone else want to point out the obvious?”

It was best to keep out of Reapers sight when an Overwatch agent survived. Platoon commander Graf learned as much over the years.

“Orders, Sir?”

“Oh well, let’s just call it a day and have a nice barbecue at the headqua-KILL THE GIRL!”

The woman nodded quickly and activated a communication device in response while the agents around her shivered and winced to various degrees, depending on how long they had worked with Reaper already. Graf seemed to be a veteran in that field.

“All agents, move in to eliminate the target. I repeat, eliminate the target."

 

 

* * *

 

 

She shot wide.

Or what could be called wide for her standards, missing her target by the breadth of a hair at most. Widow took her eye from the sights. There would be no second shot in time, Hana was already obstructed by her mech.

Widowmaker didn't understand. She usually never missed. 'One shot, one kill' she liked to boast.

" _Comment est-ce arrivé_..?!"

She tried to blame the girl for not being hunched over at the moment of the shot like a good gamer, but that was a sad excuse for her lack of millisecond adjustment. The bullet would've hit in time, even while she was at a large distance on some highrise roof overlooking the arena.

Her radio clicked.

“All agents, move in to eliminate the target. I repeat, eliminate the target."

Now the other agents would swarm the arena to do her job. It hit Widow that this situation was probably the fault of her not taking the medication she was issued. They would find out that she was lax on it. They would make her go through conditioning again. That is if Reaper didn't execute her first for being useless. He would find her soon.

" _Non. Nononononon_ …"

Widowmaker began to develop cold sweat. Her face drained of more color by the second. All the emotions she let back into her life made it hard to think. Fear was the strongest of them. Her body trembled as her mind raced, unsure what to about this. She found no answer, only flashbacks of her time strapped to the torture chamber Talon called a medical lab.

' _There is nothing to fear, Madame Lacroix. It will hurt, but the pain will slowly fade._ '

Needles punctuated her skin. Shocks rocked through her body. She was going to die, she thought, every waking hour, but she never did. In the end they hurt her until she felt no more.

It was getting hard to breathe.

_Not again. Notagainnotagainnotagain-_

"You're havin' a panic attack, luv."

Widow blinked, breath stuck in her throat. Was she getting insane? Was she hearing voices? Her eyes grew wide and it took her way too long to figure out that this sounded way more real than the head of research had in her flashback. Widow spun around to reaffirm herself under heavy breathing.

"Tracer!"

A string of emotions shot through her as she pressed out the name in her thick French accent. Fear was already present. Then there was shock. Relief that she wasn't crazy. And happiness. She had never been more happy to see Tracer.

Tracer was her 'get out of jail free' card, she realized. Widow could just pretend like the pesky Brit ruined her shot. She only needed to at least wound her to make Reaper believe.

"Happy to see me, luv? Not such a good shot without a hot bod in the way, eh?"

Lena grinned. She was quite proud of that bit of mockery, even if she was slightly surprised how genuinely happy Widow seemed.

"Oh am I ever,  _Chèrie._ Maybe you could help me line up another target~"

Widow quickly pulled Widow's Kiss on the pesky little fly. A volley of automatic fire missed her blinking target, as expected, giving Widow enough time to stand up and grapple to high ground.

"Hahaha! Really?!"

In the first seconds of the fight, Widow noticed something different about Tracers combat style. She had only one of her pulse pistols. Was there something attached to her arm?

What irritated her most however was the fit of laughter Tracer was having. She danced around her, evaded her rifle fire like usual, but cracked up like it was the most funny thing in the world to her. It made her angry.

"What's so funny?!"

"I've waited weeks to try this out!"

Tracer blinked into the air, forcing Widow to move under pulse pistol fire.  _She'll turn right_ , Tracer thought giddily, covering Widows perceived retreating path in small, smiling explosives from the contraption on her pistol-less arm.

_Qu'est-ce qui se pas-_

The balls detonated around her. Widow could barely grapple out of the way while her right leg and arm got singed in the grenade explosion. Even though she reacted as fast as she could, Widow was hard pressed to deal with disorientation and a ringing in her ears. She also lost her visor in the brief chaos.

That trick wouldn't work twice though. She whirled to get Tracer back into her peripheral, who was already in the process of lobbing something at her.

"Catch!"

_Pulse bomb! You fool!_

She could see it coming. This is where she would get the upper hand, just like on the rooftops of King's Row. Widow shot the bomb with perfect precision within a second of it being in the air.

The bomb didn't explode though. It scattered.

Shrapnel in metal scrap form opened up like an umbrella and rained down in her vicinity. Wide eyed, Widow tried to shield herself, but to little avail. Metal crashed into her skin, cut her open in multiple spots, making her bleed like a stuck pig.

"What is this..?!"

The answer came in form of a carefree voice followed by cheerful laughter.

"Improvisation! Haha!"

Widow shivered and rewarded the lunatic with a shot to the face. Of course Tracer blinked out of the way.

_4 more rounds in the chamber._

Widow's mind raced while her body grew weak from the wounds she just took. It should be doable. Everything about Tracer could be summed up in three's. 3 blinks, 3 second recharge, 3 second recall back in time. To hell with her improvisations, she would beat her with timing!

Shoot, blink,  _3 more rounds._

Even if she missed the shot on Hana, she was still superior!

Shoot, blink,  _2 more rounds._

In all her fights, Tracer never beat her one on one. She was the huntress, not the hunted!

Shoot, recall,  _last round._

This was it.

The last shot would be going to the chest. Widow take no chances anymore. Her grip was getting weak and she needed to win this fight. It would still be about one second until Tracers blink recharged. She would be stuck on her recall point 3 seconds ago. Widow was sure she remembered the spot right. She knelt down to compensate for her weakness, aimed, counted.

_Un_

_deux_

_trois_

As she pulled the trigger, an explosion rang in her ears. Where Tracer should've recalled to, smoke rose to the sky. Widow followed the trail with her bright, amber eyes and met her match in the wildest gaze she ever witnessed.

"Rocket boots..? But… what…"

She just couldn't comprehend this anymore. Widow's Kiss slowly slid out of her hands as Tracer's chronal accelerator roared in vibrant blue, announcing her next blink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _이 쉬운 모드 인가? ~ Is this easy mode?_   
>  _나는 그것을 처리합니다! 겁쟁이 플레이! ~ Play on, coward! I've got this!_   
>  _Comment est-ce arrivé ~ How can this be?_   
>  _Qu'est-ce qui se pas- ~ What is happeni-_
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>  _Thanks for reading, dearest reader!_  
>  Feedback will again be greatly appreciated.  
> Beware of the next chapter. That will be hawt. Or crazy. Or both. Most likely both.


	4. Surrender to Madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tracer revels in her victory, Hana threatens to murder some dudes, Jesse pretends to be cool, Reaper completely loses it and Widowmaker reenacts a certain Avicii song

Some part braced for impact, but most of Widow had already given up.

Tracer blinked and crashed into her target with full force, much like that fateful night on King's Row. She was again on top of her nemesis. Only this time her boots were smoking and there was a vibrant smile stuck on her face. Lena cracked up. Her plan had worked! She did it!

"Hahaha! I can't believe it, luv! You failed  _and_  you lost to me! Who's the  _foolish girl_  now, eh?!"

Widow gasped, then winced pathetically. Her wounds hurt and she couldn't think for a second there. Her breath was ragged as she slowly regained what little composure was left in her. Widow still couldn't comprehend. Tracer sounded like she beat her in some console game on a couch. Widowmaker had indeed failed and lost. There was nothing left to her. Talon would throw her away like a broken toy.

"What will you do then? … k-kill me?"

Widow's voice broke a bit there. In her mind, death was inevitable. She longed for it somewhat, but she feared it all the same. Lena cocked her head and kept giggling.

"Why'd I do that? I need you alive and squirming to keep your smug sneer out of my head! B'sides, you're a lot more fun this way~"

The assassin blinked a few times at this ludicrous explanation before realization hit her with wide eyes. She indeed broke Tracer on their last encounter, just not in the way she intended. Something inside the Overwatch agent got unhinged that killed her scruple and vastly inspired creativity in turn. 

" _Mon dieu,_  you've gone mad…"

A shiver ran down Widow's spine, as she finally comprehended that she was on the receiving end of her own handiwork.

"Did I now? That's hilarious! Wanna try me?"

Tracer suddenly grabbed her new toy by the throat and pressed down. Her shit eating grin grew somewhat menacing as she apparently didn't take to being called insane. Amber eyes darted around surprised and panicking, even more as she saw the contraption at the same hand that pressed down on her windpipe. It still held some smiling grenades. The implication didn't need explaining.

"Would you be so kind to disarm yourself, luv?"

_Disarm..?_

It took Widow a little longer to think of what Tracer meant while she was being choked. Her grappling hook, of course! That's how she escaped this predicament last time! She still had means to fight ba- _'You won't survive the attempt, luv.'_

Widow stared at the wild eyes that told her this without the need for words, interrupting every possible thought of dissent.

_Nobody will save me. I'm at this lunatics mercy._

Widow felt her heart fall as a heavy sense of futility and dread eroded what was left of her will.

"D-D'accord..!"

The assassin hastily obeyed as she disarmed herself of the last opportunity to truly fight back. Tracer gave a benevolent smile and laughed cheerfully. The choke hold faded. They could still hear distant gunshots while Widow gasped for breath. The hand that had just threatened to end her began to gently caress a blue cheek as reward for obedience.

"Good girl!~ I knew you'd come around."

 

 

* * *

 

 

Both of the casters were sweating like crazy in their elevated booth while they watched the gunfight that erupted below them in the grand arena with shock and awe.

**“STOOOOOORM!”**

**“STOOOOOOOOORM!”**

**“PSI STOOOOOOOOOORM!”**

They kept shouting the same ability name, even more so than usual, because they couldn’t really think of anything else. Leaving was not an option. The tech crew had already somehow received network messages that threatened to hunt them all down if they stopped the stream.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

This was the worst day of Jin "Destiny" Kyojun's life. He had always admired miss Song.

" _D.Va whispers:_  dont dare gg out noob or Ill stop covering ur box!"

Kyojun knew better now. D.Va was completely insane.

Out of the corner of his eyes he kept seeing the pink meka dancing around his booth like some kind of rabid bunny. All the spectators had fled the arena save for some equally insane, diehard fans of Hana and one weird westerner.

Destiny quickly continued to micro his Muta's with shivering hands. He kept losing more and more of them. Where had she hidden that Templar Archive?! He hadn't found it while checking her bases, but it had to be somewhere, since Psionic Storms ripped through his air force as he desperately tried to cut losses.

Something else caught Kyojun's attention and made him scream in high octaves. A fucking  _MISSILE_ flew at his booth, catapulted from a rocket launcher some paces in front of him. While he was witnessing his life before his eyes in slide show form, DVa had already eliminated the explosive with her MEKA's defense matrix ability.

" _D.Va whispers:_  wat r u doin?! focus!"

He looked down. 6 more of his fliers exploded in a haze of blood and gore. Destiny quickly answered, shaking all over.

" _Whispering D.Va:_  yes mam!"

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

She couldn't believe how selfish these guys were! They would've already shut down the whole show if not for her. Did nobody ever think of her fans?! Unacceptable! Hana had everything perfectly under control.

Well, she did sweat a tiny bit. And her mech was down to 50% hull efficiency.

"COWBOI! Wake up damnit! I could use your help right now!"

Another agent was sent to the ground by her charging mech. Hana quickly whirled around, activated her defense matrix for a split second to delete another hail of bullets only to shoot pulse rounds right back at the assailant. Her other hand micro'd some Templars apart so Mutalisk glaives would only hit 2 units at max.

' _Hull efficiency at 25%'_ , her mech reminded her, as more shots from all over rained in. Having to keep this Destiny kid safe strapped her of options to retaliate. Hana bit her lower lip. It was embarrassing, but she realized that she had to give in.

"Jesseee, pretty pleeease..?"

She heard a chuckle at the other end of the com.

_That bastard…_

"Callin' my name ain't so hard now, was it?"

Suddenly a loud, old timey whistle sound drowned out the gunfight noise and even the frantically screaming shoutcasters. Jesse had the whole stream for himself as he played the sound from the loudspeakers built into his mechanic arm. He loved dramatic entrances like this.

Hana just rolled her eyes.

" **IT'S HIIIGH NOON"**

Most of the agents knew this sound from fighting McCree before and hastily began looking for cover like headless chickens. As they were in an open field however, cover was scarce, so platoon commander Graf used one of the new guys who were highly confused by the behavior of their colleagues.

" **DRAW!"**

Six shots pierced six skulls in rapid succession. Sadly only six, he thought, reloading his revolver while a handful more were still active in the field. Talon really wanted Hana dead it seemed and his technique wouldn't work again since they knew his position now.

Not only that, he suddenly had a bad feeling deep in his stomach. Reflexively he rolled out of the way as Hellfire Shotgun shells buried themselves in his former seat. 

"Still roleplaying as Eastwood, you damn ingrate?!"

It was his former boss.

"I'm tryin' to figure out what you're supposed to represent, boss. Kid never loved by his mom?"

Jesse ran down the row of seats, rapidly emptying his revolver in Reapers direction while the fuming villain was doing the same. Jesse recognized that his old squad leader was clearly more enraged than usual. Reaper started throwing empty Shotguns at him.

"Could you shitty wannabe cowboy finally stop pretending as if you were in a gun drawing duel?! People would stop thinking you had brain damage!"

"What can I say, it's fun."

"Ever heard of Don Quixote?!"

"Is that a mafia boss or somethin'?"

They were rapidly approaching a dead end, so the cowboy suddenly turned around to throw pocket sand in Reapers face.

"Now hold on!"

"GRAARGH!"

It was highly effective.

"WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING HERE?!"

"You'd laugh if I told you Gabriel!"

Jesse ran past him.

_I need to hurry. Tracer is most likely responsible for the missed sniper shot and preoccupies Widowmaker right now. There's no telling how long she will last..._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Even if this wasn't quite what she had in mind, Tracer could do it for hours.

Well, she hadn't imagined anything at all really. For a few weeks now she just did whatever came to her mind so she didn't have to start pondering on anything. They had thought the rocket boots were a cool idea and hey, it worked! So this couldn't be all that wrong either. Right?

_When doubt makes me imagine Widowmaker, why not make that a bit more pleasant?_

She couldn't argue with that logic. That's why she was wildly pressing her lips on those of her captive right now. There was something about these pleading, unnaturally yellow eyes and her gasping for breath when she had called Widow a good girl and licked the blood off her cheek.

Once Lena came to touch her, it was the softness that kept egging her on, making her rip that tight, violet body suit wide open to get a hold of one of those breathtakingly petite breasts under helpless yelps from the French girl. Lena just wasn't able to contain herself anymore.

It wasn't her fault anyway, everybody likes tits! Oh and how _perfect_  they were. A shiver ran through Lena as she carefully cupped the perfectly fitting blue mound in her hand, caressing it gently, now and then squeezing it once she realized it made Widow squirm.

This wasn't what Widowmaker had imagined either.

At the beginning she was incredibly tense. How did this happen to her?

' _You were lax on your medicine, luv. It's your own fault, ain't it? Now be a good girl and enjoy your failure.'_

She seemed to grow ever more insane, hearing Tracers voice answer in her mind. Widow winced, so much so that Tracer had stopped the kiss for a second to regard her with a worrying smile. She had bit her lower lip in response before they were back at it.

This was new. And…  _good_. Heat began to spread through her body, more with every passing second. She was feeling warm for… well, she never felt warm before, ever. She thought she was going sick with fever and only tensed some more.

Under all the tension, she caught herself kissing back. A shiver ran through her body as she realized what she was doing, but wasn't in a position of willpower to stop herself. The shivers grew worse as Tracer made a move on ripping apart her body suit. Breath was stuck in her throat as she felt herself being caressed by her captor like nobody ever did before.

_This… this isn't so bad…?_

' _You think too much, luv.'_

Right. She gave up on thinking.

Instead, she focussed on this new sense of excitement as Lena finally spread her lips with a warm tongue, entering her mouth to give more of these feelings she had never experienced before. Widow caught herself placing her hands on her subjugators arms, weakly trying to find a way of peeling Tracer's flight jacket off while her eyes were blissfully rolling around in their sockets.

"What'cha doin' there?"

The question caught her off guard. Tracer had stopped every movement and looked down with a devious smirk. Widow was still breathing heavily from the deep kiss just now.

"I.. I want to…"

Heat spread in Widows cheeks. She couldn't possibly explain, tried to avert her eyes. Tracers smirk however only deepened. The Brit forced her captives gaze her way with a gently stroking hand on one of those cutely blushing cheeks.

"What do ya want, luv?"

"I want… I want to feel your skin..."

_Now that's just criminally adorable!_

The first thing to go was her chronal accelerator, which of course still worked in a close proximity for 'plot reasons'. Tracer peeled out of her pilot jacket and opened her own body suit down to the waist.

It was a sight to behold for her captive, as Widow was experiencing her first case of burning desire. The pale, slender hips and equally perky breasts to her own made her mouth dry, cheeks burn in deep purple and body squirm in awe.

"Like what'cha seein'?"

Tracer laughed cheerfully. No answer was even expected from that shivering mess below her. Instead, she went down on her captive to resume her position between those lush, blue lips, whispering softly on the way.

"You can call me Lena by the way~."

Something tingled in the back of her mind. Why did that sound so familiar?

_Amèlie knew a Lena once, didn't she?_

' _Yeah, you knew me once luv. Wanna go again?'_

Widow didn't know just how it happened. She let down her guard. She swore she wouldn't be a fool to fall in love, but she fell hard.

She guessed she should've seen it coming. Caught her by surprise. Wasn't looking where she was going, so she fell into her eyes.

_Oui._

She was addicted to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! This was my longest chapter yet.  
> I hope you enjoyed this sexy times chapter, dearest reader!  
> For anyone wondering, Widow got "Addicted To You" by Avicii stuck in her head. Had it on repeat while writing this chapter.  
> Comments and reviews again greatly appreciated. Love hearing from you guys and gals <3


	5. The Bloody Heroes you are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The South Korea arc concludes! Rated S for Smut. DVa learns a valuable lesson and McCree is the luckiest guy alive.

_All because Widow missed her shot. This is madness!_

The heart of platoon commander Sandra Graf fell to the depth of her stomach as she heard the loud whistling sound and knew, most of her unit would die here. She regretted ever giving the order.

Graf didn't know the details, but recon had made a check up on the whole arena for omnic siege automatons, so they wouldn't get ambushed by something like a Bastion unit.

McCree was the worst case ambush scenario right after that. Had she known this lunatic was hidden in the crowd, she would've equipped her men with portable cover. Helmets wouldn't do shit. Survival instinct made her whirl the nearest hapless recruit around.

"Commander?"

Miller was one of the new guys, 6 months out of training. Had been military before but just couldn't reintegrate into society. Talon kept him preoccupied and stable. So he settled down with family. Wife was pregnant.

"I'll make sure she's cared for."

Millers eyes went wide as he struggled to comprehend. She used him for cover and she hated it. Blood splattered across her visor as Millers brains were blown out right in front of her.

Five more of her unit shared the same fate. Graf quickly studied the casualties. Badegwa, Johnson, Goldstein, 3 more recruits. The units Belgian radio operative had tried to hide behind one of the soundproof booths, to no avail. Her second in command Tokigawa Sayuki had almost made it. Bullet pierced her skull right as she dove for cover.

That one hurt the most, like a dagger to the heart. Graf's bunk would be cold and lonely tonight.

It brought her little satisfaction that Reaper preoccupied McCree right now. She started this mission with 16 perfectly capable agents. Now only 4 of them were left as the target tore Adams, her last recruit, apart with close range pulse round fire after he had hurried to cover.

"We can no longer circumvent her defense matrix efficiently with our numbers! I advice retreat!"

"Enemies hull efficiency at 10% commander."

The voices of corporal Trgiňa and tech operative Sanata flaired up in her earpiece. They sounded calm, but she knew better. Mainly because she was trembling herself, as adrenaline was no longer enough to keep her focused. It was hard to hold the burning rage at bay.

"Keep your head straight corporal! This isn't over yet. Hold distance to the target and keep a spread formation at all times!"

She gave the Korean girl one more minute tops before she'd make her pay dearly for Tokigawa.

As her radio operative was down, nobody would keep tabs on the local security channels anymore. There was still a realistic chance to eliminate DVa, but the Korean version of SWAT could swoop in to eliminate the rest of her team any second now.

_Right. We can do this! We'll just have to finish this quick before-_

A sudden, machine-like noise caused dreadful shivers to run down the spines of all surviving agents.

_No no nonono! I could deal with SWAT, why does there have to be a third?!_

Graf barely heard herself ordering retreat via com channel as a booming engine roared, drowning out her voice, charging towards her with rapid speed. Graf knew she wouldn't be able to disengage in time.

" **CATCHPHRASE!"**

As Reinhardt crashed into her with bone-crushing German efficiency, he made her realize again why she hated Overwatch so much. Why she bore with being Reapers pawn, even volunteered her whole platoon to his vendetta.

_They're all insane._

Platoon commander Sandra Graf closed her eyes for a last time.

_Wait for me, Sayuki._

 

 

* * *

 

 

They heard a frantic voice announce the retreat of Talon below them.

Or rather, they would have. If Lena hadn't shot that stupid radio 5 minutes ago. That thing had been annoying! She could do with less interruptions while she handled a deadly assassin, damnit! Truly dangerous work here!

If dancing with Widow's tongue didn't take so much attention, her stupid thoughts would've let her smile equally stupid right now.

This was almost too easy. If she had known before what a mess would become of Widow once someone showed her what a real woman could make her feel, she'd…  _well… started flirting_? Yeah, something like that.

It was a bit hard to think right now. Since she began to push Widow's buttons, her captive got ever more bold, clinging to Lena and becoming quite active in exploring the skin on her back while deepening their already wild kiss.

"You really like snoggin', don'tcha luv?"

Lena had broken the kiss first with the stupid smile that she wanted to have earlier. Her hair was a mess, more so than usual. Sweat dripped off her nose down onto her captive. Both of them gasped for air in this warm summer night on a certain rooftop above a South Korean stadium.

"Enough to not want to kill you… yet."

Widow felt like talking back. Since the initial shock of feeling the thrill of desire well up deep inside her for the first time in  _years,_  she had somewhat regained her senses. Widow knew she had fallen too easily, but there had been no escaping her overwhelming emotions. Even now.

"D'aww, you look gorgeous when you threaten to kill me! Lookin' forward to your next attempt, luv."

"Be careful what you wish for..."

"We could also just.. y'know.. skip directly to this part?"

Somehow Widow wished she would feel even a tinge of regret for falling so fast, but there was nothing of the sort. Instead she caught herself smile like a love-struck teenager at the suggestion, furiously blushing as Lena added a cheeky wink. Her mind tried to find a diversion, looking away from those cheerful hazelnut eyes, lest she'd lose herself in them… again.

"Shouldn't you… just tie me up and help your little friends?"

The feeling of regret finally showed up. That came out entirely wrong. 

"Oh I'm sure you'd like  _that_."

"That's...! T-That's not what I meant, Lena!"

"Maybe I'll give ya a sweet collar, too. What do you think of ball-gags?"

"NOT. WHAT. I. MEANT.  _CRÉTIN!_ "

Widow's sharp nails dug into the back of this insolent brat.

_How dare she?!_

Lena quickly got the message and started giving a shower of appeasing licks and kisses to her embarrassed captives throat and neck. Her teasing smile never ceased, Widow just couldn't see it.

The French girl slowly eased up, drawing her nails lightly over Lena's back. She accepted the unspoken reconciliation attempt with a small sigh and adjustment of her head, so her captor had an easier time of planting those kisses that so deliciously set her skin alight.

"A real hero you are,  _Chérie_ …"

"What? I'm helping 'em right now, keepin' this dangerously beautiful killer contained!"

A shiver ran down Widow's spine. It was so cliché and she despised that Lena could feel how she loved those compliments. Why couldn't she remember it ever feeling this good with Gerard?

"How should I call you by the way, luv?"

Widow was visibly taken aback by the question.

"Why Widowmaker of course."

"Rubbish! I'm not callin ya by that made up name."

"Well I don't have any oth-"

"Amélie then."

If Lena wanted to irritate her, she got what she wanted. Widow shot back fast, her conditioning rearing it's ugly head.

"Amélie is no more! She was  _weak_."

"I know you are, luv."

Now she was getting angry, feeling the sudden urge to strangle this infuriating smirk off Lena's face.

"I'm NOT we-"

There was a sharp intake of breath on top of the roof. The air was pregnant with silence as Amélie stared with wide eyes and O-shaped lips towards a star-filled sky.

" _Ouh Lá Lá~_ "

Lena had already anticipated a reaction like this. One of her small hands had found her way below the part of Amélie's body suit that wasn't already torn wide open. If cuddling and kisses could make her oversensitive captive a writhing, mewling mess, simply caressing the silky lips of her new lover would set off fireworks. Lena's voice was quiet as a whisper.

"What didya wanna say, Amélie luv?"

"I~…  _Mon Dieu!_ "

The mere sight of her captive melting helplessly below her caress was too much. Her own arousal made Lena lick her lips and lower herself down on one of Widows legs, feintly rubbing along.

The French girl arched her back ever so slightly, practically presenting herself. Lena couldn't resist, planted a kiss on the blossoming bud of one of those perfectly petite breasts. As this went on, Amélies eyes slowly rotated inward. Her body was shivering ever more and lusty moans escaped her lips, as she could no longer concentrate on keeping herself quiet.

It didn't last long however. Lena wasn't too keen on breaking in her newest toy. Yet. She withdrew her hand, leaving her captive panting and wanting on the ground.

"You like that, hmm? I want to play some more with Amélie. Who are you again, luv?"

There was no choice here.

"A-Amélie.."

Lena had a huge grin on her face. She could get used to this.

Widow on the other hand hated it. For the most part. Two soaking fingers were placed on her lips as the French girl couldn't decide whether she should just bite them off.

"Good girl. Suck."

Amélie didn't understand what made these words so thrilling to her, why they'd make her heart pound like she had been running until she could run no more. She hated herself for obeying, giving in to the feeling.

"You want more, right Amélie?"

The French girl nodded as the taste of her own arousal filled her mouth. Another shiver ran through her. She was so addicted to the way that Lena made her feel, it was outright pathetic. A bloody great assassin she was, no more, she was just another perverted-

There was a clinking sound at the stairwell.

"I knew I heard somethin' up here! There you are Tracer!"

Amélie's eyes went wider than ever before. Nobody could see her like this! More importantly though, she'd  **KILL**  anyone who interrupted this newfound joy!

 _Who the hell dares_?!

"Y'know it was mighty hard to get rid of this Reaper gu-OH DEAR LORD ALMIGHTY!"

McCree stood there, watching the epic scene before him, cigar falling from his mouth. Tracer perked up and waved towards her fellow agent as he was gentlemanly averting his gaze.

"Heya Jesse! Got myself a captive, I do!"

"Oh yeah, I could see tha-"

„ _ **Tu oses nous interrupter, fils de merde! Je vais te fusiller quand je récupère mon fusil! Oublie ça, je vais déchirer ton cœur, cowboy aspirant! Viens ici toi, froussard! Je te défie!**_ _"_

Lena was barely able to calm the fuming and kicking French girl down before she could actually reach for Widow's Kiss. She didn't understand a word of that angry tirade, but it sounded like a long string of "I love you Lena, let's do it!" to her. French worked that way.

 

 

* * *

 

 

"HAHAHA! Watch zem flee like cowards!"

Reinhardt had a big grin on his face. He was sweating profusely. It had taken him pretty long to don his crusader armor as he was clearly not as young as he used to be. Even forgot to put his helmet on, but the day was saved!

"Reinhardt, I'm so glad to see you! What are you doing here?"

DVa already hurried over to him after she caught one last assailant in the back as he fled. She also finally allowed Destiny to gg out. Only two Talon agents survived, grappling out of the arena into the rafters.

The huge, seasoned warrior turned to her, blushing ever so slightly, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head with a massive hand.

"Uhm… I came here because of a friend. He really vanted to see you play in the finals Hana!"

"Really? I can give him an autograph or five, you saved my bum there!"

"Oh, yes please! Uh, I-I vill give zose to him of course!"

DVa had a wide smile. She practically adored Reinhardt for how cool he could fight and still be so awkward when talking to her. As he turned around towards her, she raised at an eyebrow at an unexpected sight.

"Uhm… is that one still alive?"

Both of them looked down to find a woman clinging to Reinhardts armor. Her knuckles were white from the strain of holding on and her body was sickeningly deformed from the impact of Reinhardts charge to an opposing wall. The brunette womens face was bruised and bloody.

 _"Bastard"_ , she forced herself to say as both of them stared down at her. The voice was rasping, close to the breaking point. It must've been beautiful, just a few moments ago. Tears welled in the eyes of the broken, most likely dying woman.

_"All dead"_

Reinhardt shivered. He hated those moments when not everything was clearly good and evil. Especially those where he felt bad for what he had done. He could have stopped before the wall. Why hadn't he? Maybe he was too used to fighting machines and powerful villains.

"You're still conscious little girl, impressive tenacity."

She didn't recognize his words. The rest of the broken womens energy funneled itself into pitiful sobbing while staring off into one direction.

The large warrior looked out into the field, following the gaze of this dying woman to another, unmoving on the ground. That Asiatic seeming girl had been shot out of the air, as far as he could tell, likely diving for cover in desperation. Beyond her were more corpses, either crushed, smoldering from pulse fire or downed by headshot.

DVa and McCree together had practically slaughtered a dozen men and women. Reinhardt felt sick all of the sudden. This isn't what he called winning.

_"Sieht so das Werk von wahren Helden aus?"_

Sure, Talon operatives had to know what they were in for, but they were still human. It was hard not to feel their grief, be sickened by their useless deaths. The top agents of Overwatch were practically gods among men. Had they really done everything they could to preserve human lives here?

Reinhardt felt deep shame and looked the part. The large warrior solemnly straddled the dying woman in his huge arms, so that she didn't have to hold herself anymore.

"I am so sorry."

He was as gentle as he could be, moving towards the ambulances that began to arrive on the scene.

Hana found herself baffled and alone. Something in her interface was blinking, catching her attention. Her fans were commenting on the stream in which 13 people had died just now. Soon maybe 14.

" _they deserved it"_

" _I think Im gonna throw up…"_

" _is Destiny okay?!"_

" _that was horrible!"_

" _LOL no that was AWESOME!"_

" _people died you sicko!"_

" _why were they still playing?"_

" _Rein is the only good person in that arena"_

There was a sudden urge to translate what Reinhardt had said in German before he left. The translation rendered her speechless while all the comments sliding by her eyes left a bitter taste in her mouth. She recognized one name among the flood of comments.

It was a young girl named Gyumi who somehow managed to convince her parents every time to drive her over when Hana gave an autograph session or meet&greet. The sweet thing always claimed to be her biggest fan, beaming brightly with the cutest of smiles.

" _hana had to do this right?"_

That's when she realized just how hard she had fucked up.

What a bloody hero she was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _“Sieht so das Werk von wahren Helden aus?” - "Is this how the work of true heroes looks like?"_
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> This chapter I tried some different themes and topics. It got a lot longer than I intended.  
> I'm itching to find out how you liked this chapter, dearest reader! Please let me know!  
> I hope you enjoyed it! <3


	6. A Promise of Purpose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amélie has trouble fitting in, Lena helps her out and Talon is planning their next move to prevent this story from becoming full on smut!

If gazes could kill, McCree would, surprisingly, still be alive.

The flight hadn't taken long enough yet for the torture Widow planned for him to turn lethal.

She would gauge his eyes out, crush every bone in his body and… well, she didn't think that far ahead. Imagining the sound of breaking each one of his fingers, one by one, was way too satisfying.

Not that her eyes would've shown it. Amélie was actively trying to stare a hole into Jesse's forehead from the couch-corner of the rather spacious Overwatch aircraft. The cowboy was sitting on the opposite end of the cabin, nervously tucking on his cigar and looking anywhere but in Widow's direction.

This went on until Lena seemed to finally take offense. A hand slid around Widow's waist as she felt the Brit edge closer. Her voice was hushed, whispering into her ear.

"You remember what you promised me, Amélie?"

A light shiver ran over the French girl as the memory forcibly resurfaced. They were back on the roof where Lena had resorted to the most unfair of tactics to get her from murdering McCree right then and there.

She had tickled her.

In front of THAT guy.

And she had  _liked_  it.

Only thinking about it made her killing intent rise to boiling levels. She almost abandoned her torture plans because she deemed strangling the cowboy could be possible before they could stop her. Widow's Kiss wasn't an option. Lena had taken that. 'For safe-keeping'.

" _Oui."_

Amélie closed her eyes. She could remember Lena's words vividly. The image of her cheerful smile, those deep hazelnut eyes, the way she could make her laugh... everything was burned into her memory together with a strange feeling of purpose.

' _You belong to me Amélie. You'll go with me. Where we will go, you won't kill anyone anymore. If you do, I never want to see you again. Promise me.'_

She had promised. Again, there was no choice.

It had felt good though, to give that promise. To go with Lena. Especially as she was rewarded with Lena's pilot jacket, since Amélie's body suit had been ripped open at the top. Amélie loved the smell and feel of it against her skin. It was one of the few things keeping her sane right now.

"Then start to behave, luv. I'd much rather have you stare at me, anyway."

She could see the cheeky smile in the corner of her eyes and averted her gaze from both of them. Amélie kept her arms crossed, thereby cuddling into the pilots jacket and desperately tried to suppress the color of her cheeks turning bright. Of course she failed at that, too.

"Not in front of them…"

"Alrighty then, better than nothing I guess."

She felt Lena shrug, yet still gently holding onto her by the waist.

That was a relief. Amélie liked it that way.

The rest of their little ensemble didn't fare much better.

"What's with this atmosphere? Feels like a funeral or somethin'!"

Lena was doing her best to try and improve the situation inside the cabin, laughing cheerily.

"Might still be one."

That was Hana's way of reminding them what was beyond the next door.

The Korean girl had been unusually quiet since they met her again. Amélie only remembered this 2nd place energy-ball of Overwatch from the battlefield. She was always taunting with nerdy one-liners from inside that pink robot of hers, behaving like combat was a game.

This DVa however just stared down at some sort of tablet. She typed in a string of words only to bite her lower lip and delete it all again. This cycle continued for countless times. She was the most useless, insecure thing and what a pitiful sight it was to behold.

"What are you even typin' there, luv?"

Hana barely looked up before her gaze shied away again.

"Just… a statement to my fans."

Silence filled the cabin for a while, safe for engine sounds and a faint discussion between a man and a woman next door.

That door opened suddenly. Hana immediately looked up from her tablet with visible worry towards Reinhardt. There was a restrained smile on that large mans face.

"How is she?"

"Ze doctor says she'll stay alive for the flight and a few more hours after. I have never seen greater tenacity in a woman, haha!"

Both of them relaxed considerably with that announcement. The large man took some heavy steps before sitting across a table from Widow and Tracer.

Reinhardt looked a lot friendlier than Amélie remembered him, being outside his hulking metal armor and all.

"Sorry for the mess by the way! I haven't cleaned up in a while."

There he was right. Somehow all the parachutes had come lose and were lying around the cabin together with a battalion of basketballs and weights for lifting. Amélie could still make out several super hero comics, pictures of DVa and a curious book called 'Starcraft for Dummies' that had been hastily thrown off the table.

"No problem big guy! I'm just glad we don't have to fly commercial. The flight food there is utter rubbish!"

"And we'll actually be home in time for siesta. The earlier we return the higher the chance that we'll survive Angie."

Everyone in the cabin groaned. Well except for Amélie. She couldn't quite put a finger on who this 'Angie' character was supposed to be, but it apparently wasn't a pleasant one. Hana finally broke the dreadful silence.

"Lena, I still have to thank you for saving me! I would've been shot if you hadn't distracted Widowmaker."

Amélie raised an eyebrow. That was right, they didn't know about her failure.  _Good_. She preferred only Lena knowing that the deadly Widowmaker had been losing her touch. She propped herself up a bit to play the part.

"I would've hit my mark if it hadn't been fo-"

"Amélie missed by herself!"

There was a slight shock in the room. The other agents were regarding her incredulously and Amélie was more than dumbfounded. Heat was rising in her cheeks from embarrassment. She looked to her captor with wide eyes and a slightly opened mouth, as if she would plead for Lena to take it all back any second now.

_Lena you wouldn't. You didn't just…_

"…on purpose!"

_On purpose?!_

"On purpose?"

Reinhardt had been the one asking the question out loud. Amélie was struggling to understand. The only thing she knew was that this insolent brat had purposefully delayed those words just to tease her. She'd make her pay for that next time in bed…

"Yeah! She didn't want to kill Hana because she's so cute! So she missed her shot on purpose. Then I came in and convinced her of joining the good guys! We have all the cute girls after all!"

_Seriously…?_

That was the most ridiculous explanation she ever heard! The Korean girl had been an annoyance to the highest degree, she would've never spared her! And to make Amélie out like she was a pervert! Lena couldn't expect anyone to ever believe this.

Amélie looked around. Hana was blushing hard and Reinhardt was practically bursting with excitement, patting her on the head with a giant, yet gentle hand.

"HAHA! Zat is vonderful to hear! It seems we finally have you back, Amélie!"

McCree gave a surprised yet respectful nod with a tuck of his hat.

"S' good to have you back on the team Mrs Lacroix. Sorry for staring back then by the way…"

Before she could find any venomous words for that insufferable buffoon or snap at Reinhardt that she wasn't some sort of puppy for him to pet, something jumped into her from the side with force.

"You really think I'm cute?! D'aww, thanks Ami! I never told you, but I think you look totally  _hawt!"_

Amélie could feel a second, soft body pressing against her. Hana was squeaking and cuddling up to her, while Lena was doing the same from the opposite side. Breathing was getting more difficult, sensitive as she was. One girl had already been too much…

_Ami?! Wha…_

Amélie couldn't even anymore. This was hell. Or heaven.

Lena whispered knowingly into her ear, smirking devilishly.

"Wave and smile, luv. Wave and smile."

 

 

* * *

 

 

Corporal Viktor Trgiňa and tech operative Josephine Sanata had a long corridor ahead of them.

"Are you nervous?"

Josephine hadn't talked much, or rather at all since the South Korean incident. He could've expected the silence. It had been no secret that she had looked up to the commander like crazy. He himself had. Graf had been a good woman. A bit headstrong at times maybe, but that was a good quality for a leader. Well, it hadn't been this time.

They stopped at a heavily ornamented door made of oak wood. Viktor pushed it open and entered first, befitting his rank.

A dark room stretched out in front of them. He had never been in here, that honor always befell the commander. The executives of Talon sat elevated and overshadowed, just in case any visitor was yet unsure for what this corporation stood. There was only a small patch of light in the middle of the room. A large screen was playing what seemed to be a muted video game stream.

"Please step into the light corporal Trgiňa, special agent Sanata."

They did as they were bidden. Both agents quickly realized that the stream showed what happened on that fateful summer night only two days ago. A man with what Viktor made out to be a remote stopped the picture right as six agents would have been falling to the ground.

"7 recruits, 4 special agents, corporal Eckert, commander Graf, her second-in-command Tokigawa and code name Widowmaker. This was the highest profile loss of manpower in the history of our organization."

A shiver ran through both of them. They hadn't known that Widowmaker was compromised, but it only made sense since she missed her shot. Reaper also wasn't among the casualties, although they hadn't seen him since.

"How could this happen? Who gave the order?"

"Reaper"

Viktor was surprised. The blonde American to his side had almost instantly answered. Either the executives were surprised too, or nobody dared speak out against the man who gave the order, even in his absence.

"Very well. Why did Graf let herself get ambushed?"

"She didn't-..!"

Sanata almost lost her cool. Viktor quickly put a hand on one of her shoulders to remind her of the trouble she was getting herself into. As she seemed to understand, he answered instead in his Slovakian accent.

"The recon team made a thorough checkup of the stadium right before the target was supposed to go down. We got clearance from them. They checked for military automatons and large, automatic weaponry, because irrelevant security would most certainly be wielding small arms. Since agent McCree wields a revolver, he fell through the cracks."

Multiple shadowy figures started arguing over their heads.

"This can't ever happen again!"

"The recon team has to be more thorough."

"That would cost time we don't have on missions."

"One would think a hidden agent or two could have saved the whole operation."

"Beginners mistake."

"I'd say we put this 'McCree' on high priority for the next hit, then."

"Agreed."

It felt like listening to higher beings while both of them stood small in their spotlight. Sanata still trembled with anger. He muttered to her as quiet as he could.

"It's over soon, pull yourself together Josephine."

The stream suddenly continued. Bodies finally fell to the ground. They knew what would happen next. Out of thin air, a large metal suit crashed into their commander. From this angle, they could practically see the bones crush until the armor suit left the borders of the stream.

It was a mercy for Josephine not to see her commander getting rammed into a wall.

"We trust you haven't seen this part yet, agents."

To their surprise, the picture again froze as Reinhardt reentered the screen, straddling a broken but living woman.

The focus returned to the two mortals in their spotlight. Multiple figures spoke again, as each of them was likely responsible for different parts of Talon.

"We have reason to believe that Overwatch secured not only code name Widowmaker, but also commander Graf."

"They have the ability to restructure humans from the brink of death into cyborgs. There is precedence for this in a cyborg called Shimada Genji, which they used against his own clan."

"We absolutely can't have our agents being turned against us."

"Corporal, you are hereby promoted to the position of squad commander. Agent Sanata will serve as your second-in-command. Manpower will be assigned to your new unit shortly."

"Your mission is to locate and extract code name Widowmaker and commander Graf. Capturing Widowmaker alive is the highest priority. If extraction isn't possible, eliminate the targets at all costs."

Viktor was thrilled. He would be commander of his own unit!

"Yes sir! Extract or…"

Josephine flinched beside him. She had stared at the broken body in Reinhardts hands in dreadful awe up until now. That gave him pause.

"…eliminate at all costs. Understood."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After big chapter 5, there was bound to be some calming down.  
> Hope you still like it though! The plot has to go on!  
> Anyone think a threesome would be a good idea? I promise it wouldn't kill Amélie... just make her lose more sanity ~


	7. Burying the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Widowmaker faces her past, Reinhardt faces strong alcohol and Mercy faces Widowmaker.

“How did this happen..?”

Amélie had asked this below her breath. She was feeling stiff and tense from the way Hana and Lena cuddled up to her. It was easier to get used to now since they both had fallen asleep, even though their hands were still hugging her form.

She didn’t move much, not wanting to wake them. They looked cute the way they were.

Hana had made more than clear that she felt thankful for being spared by such a skilled assassin as Widowmaker and even more honored to be the reason for her to leave Talon. That she actually believed what Lena had spun, lying through her teeth was baffling to Amélie, but… this wasn’t quite so bad. She actually began to wonder if Hana’s skin would feel differently from Lena’s.

_‘D’awww, you really are perverted for cute girls, aren’tcha luv?’_

_What?! No!_

Amélie quickly shook her head, trying to get rid of Lena’s voice. She shivered slightly and peaked to her captor, gnawing on her bottom lip. She wondered what Lena would really think about… thougts like this.

_I belong to Lena, first and foremost._

There hadn’t been much pondering involved to those thoughts. They just came naturally, felt right even though they probably shouldn’t? Another shiver. She couldn’t help herself from leaning down for a dreamy kiss to Lena’s sternum.

She hadn’t even heard Rheinhardt reenter the cabin and got startled quite badly by him tucking a beige colored blanket over the three of them. That the aircraft seemed to travel with the darkness hadn’t made it any easier.

“Well, Lena lied to us and zose too swallowed it hook, line and sinker.”

Rheinhardt was nodding over to Hana first, then McCree. The cowboy was fast asleep, snoring faintly in the corner.

Her eyes were blinking in rapid succession. What had he just said? Reinhardt’s facial expression was hidden from her as he returned to his seat on the table across from them.

“Lena… didn’t lie.”

She sounded not very convincing and she knew it.

“Oh please. Everyone who isn’t as absorbed with zemselves as zese two would have seen your surprise and discomfort. Would you have truly changed your mind, you would wear it like a badge! Not try to lie.”

That shut her up good. The big warrior had been all cheers and smiles for the whole flight. Now he just looked grizzled, exhausted and fed up with all the shit in the world. His hands reached for a clear glass and a bottle of Italian grappa. The silence between them was heavy as he poured the golden liquid. Amélie felt fear for what Reinhardt might do.

“I don’t know what you want and I don’t trust you, Widowmaker. But Lena trusts you far enough to lie to her friends. Zat is enough for me.”

The German took his time, savoring a sip and regarding her with caution.

“But it won’t be enough for others. You killed too many of our friends.”

He sounded lethargic, yet he pointed at her accusingly all the same.

“Do you remember shooting Ana’s eye out?

Remember that Gerard was Morrison's best friend?

Remember Bayless?

Remember Al-Farouk?

Remember Singh?

All of them you left for Mercy to bury.”

Amélie was baffled. She slowly began to realize that Lena’s ambitions might have been a fools dream. How could she have ever believed that this story was going to have a happy end? There were so many bodies, how would they ever forgive?

Fear took hold of her. This was all going to end. Her newfound joy had barely lasted a day.

She couldn’t just hope that they wouldn’t shackle her down like a dangerous animal. She couldn’t just rely on Lena to guide her through this. The conditioning that was still very much running through her was proving to obstruct her future. She felt her heart fall deep into her stomach. What could someone so fucked up like her even do?

The large warrior leaned forward.

“You need to get better at acting.”

_Acting…? Does he think I don’t remember? Does he think I don’t feel guilt?_

Amélie looked down.

She remembered everything.

_What have I done?_

She finally realized just how pathetic she really was.

Only now that there were consequences did the atrocities she had committed become aware to her, even though she felt again for over a month now. Images of former friends she shot, the husband she had strangled in his sleep washed over her.

_You did it because it felt good._

Her mind was filled with broken thoughts. Amélie experienced violent shivers. Tears after tears ran down her cold, blue cheeks as she gazed into the abyss that were her wrongdoings. She raised the hand she used to pull the trigger, stared at it.

_What have I become?_

Reinhardt felt the urge to mock the soundlessly crying woman before him, pretend he didn’t see the guilt that finally welled up in her. It would be much easier, would feel so much better. Kick her while she’s down, make her feel just as miserable as he had.

But that wasn’t who he was. He suppressed the urge by downing his glass. Then he tried to ignore the pain and remember the Amélie that once was, as he had tried all evening. It was easier now, seeing her hurt from regret.

“Whazzat, luv..? Somethin’ with your hand..?”

The words startled the both of them. Reinhardt was raising an eyebrow, pretending as if he wasn’t there while watching as Lena pressed herself up to the crying woman, smiling sleepily. Amélie was breathless, shocked that Lena would see her vulnerable like this, her voice broken and drowning in self pity.

“Lena.. I..”

“Shh, you’re crying… that won’t do.”

There was no resisting. Both of Lena’s hands gently cupped those tear-stained cheeks. She forced Amélie to keep staring into her eyes as Lena went in for the kiss with a cheerful smile.

Tears kept flowing down her cheeks, onto Lena’s and into their kiss. The hands on her cheeks were sinking into her silky blue hair, sheltering Amélie in her arms.

“Shhh… shhh… let it all out, luv. You’re with me now. You can leave the past behind.”

She whispered the words against those cold blue lips and Amélie obeyed, sobbing ever so slightly, leaning into Lena until her weary eyes met a soft shoulder. She began to cry a little louder, letting herself go, dampened just enough so nobody else would have to wake up and see her as pathetic as she really was.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Was that really necessary, Reinhardt?”

Amélie was asleep now. She had cried and sobbed and clung to Lena for almost half an hour until her stamina finally ran out. Rheinhardt winced barely noticeable, wondering for how long Lena had been pretending to sleep.

“You know zis is not easy to accept. I trust you, but ze others will have a harder time. It was better to make her aware now.”

Even if Lena knew this, she just had the most mischievous grin on her face.

“Rubbish, you’re just jealous that she got to cuddle with Hana!”

Now that got to him! The large warrior was falling over his own words with wide eyes.

“Z-Zat is not true! I would never…”

“What are all these pictures of Hana doing down there by the way, luv? Looks like someone hastily swept them off the table!”

“Zose are… for a friend, yes!”

“Aww rubbish big guy! Everyone knows you’re her biggest fan!”

Lena had caught him with a cheeky wink. But how?! He tried to hide it so much! Mainly to not look creepy and retain his manliness. The great warrior shrunk in his seat, lowering his head in shame.

“You got me. I… I just wish I had grandchildren.”

“D’awww, so that’s why… you’re cute, you know that?”

That made him smile a bit again, shyly rubbing the back of his head with a huge hand.

“You think so? Haha!”

“If you ever make my girlfriend cry again, I’m gonna tell Hana and make sure she despises you for it.”

He froze. Lena’s voice was suddenly sharp like a knife and down to business. She had gotten wild eyed, grinning madly and throwing him a wink. Despite that, it didn’t look like she was joking at all. There was an aura of determination flowing from her that made his skin crawl. A slow nod acknowledged the threat.

 “Awesome! I knew we’d see eye to eye big guy.”

As Lena was leaning back into the formerly sobbing mess to find sleep herself, Reinhardt wasn’t so sure about who to trust anymore. There was something honest about Amélie that made him sympathetic and something… unhinged about Lena that had surfaced for a second there when it came to protecting her captive.

He just hoped that no agent would tempt this new, mad wrath of hers.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It had been nerve wrecking. She had waited too long for her fears to be unfounded.

New Overwatch had settled for London as their new headquarters. It was an impressive, deep complex, complete with indoor landing pad. The sky-facing hangar doors had opened for the aircraft.

Angela could barely wait for it to land, so she could scold this uncaring child for making her worry so much. Even this little stretch of waiting was excruciating.

“They said they have a patient on board with less than 3 hours to live. And a special captive.”

“I know.”

Winston was looking just as eager as she did to see their agents well and alive again.

The side facing doors were made for quick engagements upon landing, so it didn’t take long to disembark. Angela was thrilled when she saw all her agents return safely, even Jesse.

Her face fell immediately as she could make out an unrestrained, blue-skinned figure among them.

Everything happened in split seconds now.

Her hand had drawn her Caduceus blaster by sheer reflex, before she had even time to think. The guards that had come to greet the famous agents mimicked what their high ranking superior did.

Reinhardt immediately planted his giant energy shield before the three girls, the cowboy and his own broken charge. He had already anticipated this.

As he did so, he heard Lena blink. _Oh no.._

Angela felt herself get tackled lightly. She stood her ground under shock and looked down, puzzled at the energy ball that was hugging her form like she missed her just as much as Angela had missed Lena.

“I’m sorry that I made you worry mom! I brought back an old friend though, so it’s all okay right?”

The doctors lips grew tight as she alternated her gaze between the woman she hated more than anything in life and those huge, brown eyes that smiled the widest smile at her from below.

“Weapons down men!”

Winstons baritone voice boomed through the Hangar. Reinhardt felt real relief as the situation had been quickly disarmed, his energy shield vanishing again. Angela lowered her blaster last, getting an almost shameful look upon her face. One of her hands slid gently into that wild brown hair to caress the smaller woman. All thoughts of scolding Lena for leaving her so soon had already vanished as she returned the cheerful smile.

“It’s okay dear, I’m so relieved that you are well. Pray tell, what is Widowmaker doing here with you, _unrestrained_?”

McCree was grumbling quietly. He would’ve already been strung up by one ear…

“Why she’s my captive, she is! Amélie was supposed to kill Hana, you know? But she couldn’t bring herself to do it, so I made her switch sides!”

The doctors eyes went wide with disbelief. Not only hers. One of Winstons big brows furrowed and the guardsmen around her mumbled among themselves. The Widowmaker had spared a victim, that was completely unheard of! Normally the only thing that Widow had left for the doctor to do was dig a grave.

She looked up again, studied Widowmaker and decided to leave Lena there to come closer. Step by step it was easier to make out those blue features.

The whole procession was dead silent, waiting for the doctors appraisal.

Hana was clinging onto the French woman, even though it looked like it really should’ve been the other way around. Widowmaker was shivering all over, observing with badly veiled fear what would be happening to her. She avoided Mercy’s gaze. Was that shame in her eyes? There were signs that she had cried. A lot.

If what Lena had told her was right, she quickly guessed that Widowmaker was suffering from conversion disorder. Mercy couldn’t believe her own eyes. A therapy plan already formed in her head out of habit.

“Please don’t hurt her Mom! She’s good now!”

It was Hana pleading, interrupting her thoughts. There was a second until Angela fully understood. The implication stung. She had drawn her blaster pretty quickly there, hadn’t she?

“Please Angie, we can do zat later! We have a patient that needs you!”

The doctor was overwhelmed, breathing shallowly.

“Y-Yes… yes there was that. Let us tend to that first.”

The tension in the hangar let up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another development chapter!  
> Somebody noticed that I wrote Reinhardt wrong all this time, how awkward!  
> Do not fear dearest reader, Widowtracer smut will return in the next installment ~  
> Still pining on the threesome option. Feedback appreciated <3


	8. Laughter is the best Medicine!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angela has a bad day, Lena has a thing against guns, Winston has an idea and everybody has a good laugh!

“Patient is coming to.”

Sandra heard some female voice say this as she opened her eyes and was greeted by a plethora of white lights. Was this heaven?

The answer came in form of three faces obstructed with respiratory protection.

She groaned. Every part of her body either felt numb or hurt tremendously.

Angela looked at the broken woman with cool professionalism. At first she had been horrified by the condition of her patient, but routine kicked in as it always did. Her personal assistant and the Korean emergency doctor were aiding her in this operation.

“Can you understand us, miss Graf?”

There was a slight ringing in her ears, but she did.

“Where... am I?”

Her voice sounded rasping to herself and it hurt to talk. Why the hell was she still alive?

“You’re at my operating table. Your whole body is broken to a degree that we can no longer save it.”

Was that so? What a giant waste of time then. She could’ve died crying peacefully in that stadium with Sayuki in her field of view. Maybe she could’ve asked the big warrior to do her this last favor. She hadn’t been able to think at that time.

“However, Overwatch can offer you a chance to live. We have the technology to replace your failing body parts with state of the art substitutions. In exchange, you will help us fight Talon. All we need is your consent.”

Sandra listened to this blonde haired doctor talk and talk and she couldn’t help but crack up. Was she serious? What sort of sick, twisted joke was this? Despite herself, Graf felt boiling rage well up inside her broken body. Machinery began to beep in a worrying way.

“Doctor, the heartrate…”

“I won’t be your puppet, bitch!”

All of them seemed to be taken aback. Good.

She had to take a breath in between sentences. Her rage only increased because of her incapability to properly scream at this joke of a doctor.

“Overwatch took _everything_ from me! **FUCK OFF**!”

A coughing fit took hold of her after she raised her voice as loud as her strained vocal cords would let her. Blood came with the coughs, ran down from her mouth. As it did, she made sure to spit at the insolent, blonde woman.

“Our… agents were only defending themselves. Despite that we present you with-“

 _“You know nothing!_ L-Let… let me die in peace… already… _”_

It was all the venom Sandra could muster. Her voice finally broke and she could only hear herself croak at best. Breathing was getting hard, way too hard. She felt the urge to close her eyes and rest. Her thoughts drifted back to the family she lost in the crossfire of some Blackwatch raid. Her husband and son. They were never given a chance. She wouldn’t spit on their and Sayuki’s graves by accepting this one.

She’d rather die.

“Doctor, her vital signs are giving out.”

Angela stared at the barely conscious woman. The bile she had thrown at her ran deep. Her patient must’ve suffered great loss at the hands of Overwatch to react to someone in this manner who offered salvation.

A loss Angela had no hand in. It wasn’t her fault…

She wanted to tell her that it wasn’t her fault more than anything, but she would look crazy in front of her colleagues.

“Doctor Ziegler?”

There had always been this uncertainty as Genji was the one to lie on her operating table. Would he have too much honor to go against his own clan, refuse her help? What would she have done then? Just let him die? Save him despite his wishes?

“Doctor…?”

Was a doctor to respect the choice of the patient, or save a life at all costs?

She hated these moments. They always remembered her of Gabriel.

“Cut the life support.”

Angela averted her eyes and turned to leave.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It was all highly irritating to her.

Not that she would show it. She liked to smile, as it didn’t give away any weaknesses.

Why couldn’t they just trust her? She had this per-fect-ly under control! Even now Amélie was sitting still, closely next to her. Lena enjoyed gently stroking her captives leg under the table, out of sight, just to make her squirm.

“We can’t just let Amélie roam freely after what happened last time. I’m just glad that Jack and Ana aren’t present. They’d be calling for the chopping block.”

“Last time she was fresh out of conditioning, wasn’t she? Well, now she beat it! She even spared Hana, wouldn’t you know. You should’ve seen the two cuddle together! Simply a-dorable!~”

Winston cleared his throat upon that.

_‘Please stop Lena..!’_

It was so much easier to smile when the voice in her head that had terrified her for weeks now pleaded for mercy. It egged her on, made her think of more ways to embarrass this cute little blueberry by her side.

“Last time she was a sleeper agent. Who’s to say she isn’t one again?”

“I do! All of her team minus reaper got killed. This was the biggest blow to Talon ever! Plus missin’ the chance to take out Hana? No way they planned _that,_ right?”

The great ape was thinking on that. She used those pauses in their discussion to throw a wink and smirk towards Amélie, who blushed every single time without fail. Lena did all she could to not tear that flight jacket off of her right there and then.

“Well, we can’t exclude the possibility that they planned it this way for the sake of credibility, even if it does sound unlikely. But what if they programmed her in case she ever got captured at all?”

“Then we can’t do anything about it, can we? Doc’s checkup last time didn’t work.”

That wasn’t the greatest answer ever, but it’ll have to do. If it didn’t, she would do what it takes.

It was pure bliss to be able to think clearly again. She would go insane if she ever lost sight of Amélie. As her chronal accelerator tied her physical form to this world, Amélie was like the anchor for her mind, keeping her as close to sanity as she will ever be.

_Nobody will take you away from me. You’re mine._

_‘Promise me, Chérie…’_

A shiver ran over her. Maybe she’d be going mad either way with this cute voice in her head, but this was much more enjoyable.

“There you are right Lena. Tricky situation, really. But I already have something in mind for-“

With a loud **BANG** the double winged doors to Winston’s laboratory were kicked open. Lena and Amélie whirled around to see who had disturbed the peace and observed as a figure radiating with hate and anger entered the room, flanked by two Overwatch guardsmen. Winston tried to address the figure.

“Jack what are you-“

**“What is this nonsense?!”**

The figure was growling loud enough for the room to be filled with it. His visor masked his face, but the distinctively colored jacket made it easy to identify Soldier 76, also known as Jack Morrison. The safety on his rifle was off. All of them pointed with their guns towards Amélie.

“Step away from that lunatic **right now!** I will put her in an isolation cell where she belongs!“

Jack hadn’t even finished his sentence when his guards hit the floor.

To the shock of everyone in the room, Tracer had used the acceleration of her blink to send both of them flying to the ground with a square hit of her fist to their faces.

Noses cracked, blood spew, teeth broke.

On the back of her last takedown, she whirled around, blinked into the air and rammed her foot into Soldier 76’s face. His visor cracked in the split second that all this transpired, as her foot did too. She didn’t mind. He was sent flying onto his back and lost hold of his rifle in the process.

It was being pressed to his neck a mere second later.

Tracer was standing over him with wide eyes, aiming the gun. Safety was still off. She leaned in to laugh cheerfully, then whispered to him, so only he would understand.

"I don't know how to use this thing, Jack. Was that the trigger for your grenade launcher? I always wanted to try it out, preferably on some wanker who threatens my girl."

She heard a scream above. It was Angela’s voice who had been standing behind the three men. Tracer held her gaze focused on Jack, so he would truly understand, then recalled back and used a last blink to reach her comfy seat next to her dearest possession. A quick check made her smile for a job well done, as she had been just in time for her broken foot to heal. With a few quick movements of her hands, the pulse rifle was disarmed and on the table in front of them.

“It’s so rude to point a gun at some unarmed girls! Stuff like that always makes me twitchy. You were sayin’, Winston darling?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

_ 15 minutes earlier in the medical wing of Overwatch HQ _

 

“Yes Jack, I tell you, with Amélie, unrestrained..!”

The phone was pressed to her ear while she walked to the exit. Angela had to tell _somebody_ or else she would lose her mind. Since the incident just now in the operating room, she found herself trembling, holding back tears. The feeling of failure clawed at every fabric of her being.

_‘Fail is all you ever do.’_

The doctor categorically banished Gabriel’s voice out of her head, squeezing her eyes shut and pressing two fingers to her sternum. He always found her this way when she had to make hard choices.

“What..? You’re in the vicinity? Yes, I have time, just.. please let’s go together? I can’t do this alone Jack.”

_‘Can’t do it alone, can you? Pathetic.’_

_Shut up!_

Angela was trying to keep her voice stable. In reality the doctor was cracking at the seams. She felt like crying and shattering her head against the nearest wall. The thoughts of doing so calmed her ever so slightly.

_‘Tell me Doc, what will you do with Widowmaker? Kill her like your last patient?’_

_SHUT UP!_

The wall looked more attractive by the second.

“I’ll be in front of the medical wing in a minute.”

Angela put her phone into her doctor’s overall and entered the waiting rooms on the way to take her leave. What surprised her were Reinhardt and Hana. Both of them were sitting there, likely waiting for her since she started the procedure, looking up with hopeful eyes. They saw Mercy drowning in sweat and the burden of choice.

She stopped to take a breath. This wasn’t getting any easier.

“Miss Graf… refused the surgery. She will not recover.”

Her voice was several octaves higher than it usually was. She couldn’t meet their eyes. That wasn’t necessary to feel both their hearts fall in grief and the weight of their own failure. It felt good to share.

“Thank you for your work Angie. Zis is all my fault. I’m sorry for making you do it…”

Reinhardt always had been a sweetheart. She could’ve never refused a patient either way.

“Next time just… don’t make it do or die for me, okay?”

A weak smile was meant for him. He flinched. Maybe her choice of words hadn’t been the best, but she couldn’t dwell on that now. There was more work to be done. She took long strides out of the waiting room before Hana could start crying, which she would any second now. Angela knew she wouldn’t be able to keep it in if someone else started.

Jack was already waiting for her outside the medical wing. She was surprised how quickly he had organized guards. Words were forced out of her mouth, as she suddenly didn’t feel like talking anymore.

“Jack, it’s so good to see you.”

“You look awful Angela.”

“Charming like always, mein Freund.”

“I’m gonna take care of this threat. You rest easy. She won’t kill anyone this time.”

He began to move, motioning for his guards to do the same. Angela blinked a few times, struggling to keep up with them.

“You’re not gonna… just barge in there and arrest her, are you?”

“That was the plan.”

She bit her lower lip. Maybe informing Jack hadn’t been the best decision right now. The image of Widowmaker scared as a young doe resurfaced. She heard Hana’s plea for mercy in her mind and shivered.

“I don’t think that is the best idea… we should talk together about this with the others.”

Jack didn’t turn around. He kept his pace and just shot her a seething glance over the shoulder.

“Are you crazy?! Talking and observing is what killed Gerard last time! I’ll do what’s best for Overwatch, even if you all don’t want to see it!”

“But..”

Jack marched on.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_ Ten seconds later. _

 

Her eyes went wide as she screamed. Curiously enough, Angela couldn’t hear herself.

She had expected something like this. In her deepest fears, Widowmaker would have shown her true colors and taken them all out in a flash at the threat of 3 loaded rifles. But it hadn’t been Widowmaker. The blue girl was fidgeting all over Lena, shedding tears out of sheer shock.

“L-Lena, what have you done? _Fille stupide!_ Are you hurt? Your hands, t-they’re bloody..!”

“You worry too much, luv. It’s just a little bleedin’ is all.”

Lena was straddling the hysterical French woman, trying to calm her down, while Amélie was crying as she fixated on those bloody hands. They were whispering to each other, but not quiet enough.

“Don’t… don’t get yourself in trouble because of me… I’m not worth it…”

Lena gave her the sweetest of smiles, cupping her cheek with a bloody hand.

“Of course you are, Dummy! I’ll be strong for you, so you don’t have to."

Angela couldn’t believe her eyes. Winston seemed to be struggling to keep his composure as well. She finally reached for the in-base com device in her doctors overall.

“We’ve... got three new patients in Winston’s lab. Head trauma.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Winston had his hand in a peanut butter can. The doctors head was firmly planted on the table as she sat across from them. Amélie looked to the side and saw Lena smile as her usual self.

There was a slim, metal collar on the table. That was Winston’s solution, as he had tried to explain before Jack had interrupted him.

“…it’s to make sure that nothing happens to anyone around Amélie. When vital signs are beginning to drop from anyone around her, this collar will paralyze her instantly. It’s my own design, in case Talon ever tried the same strategy again.”

Lena had been thrilled at that. Amélie herself too. She just hoped it would fit well.

Half a minute ago some medics had taken the groaning victims of Lena’s wrath to the med bay. Soldier 76 hadn’t moved an inch, even though he was still scary as hell just lying around on the floor. Amélie had tried to not look his way anymore.

“Well, since Jack isn’t the commander here anymore, he clearly overstepped his boundaries. Nevertheless, I am severely disappointed in the two of you. There was no need to inform him and _most certainly_ no need to beat him up.”

Angela didn’t look up, Lena just rolled her eyes. Both of them answered at the same time.

“Sorry!~”

“Sorry…”

Winston grumbled at that, satisfied, while taking another scoop of peanut butter.

Amélie blinked a few times. She looked between the three of them and wondered if it was always like this. This whole scene was too surreal. She couldn’t help herself, so she started to giggle.

Her tear-stained cheeks blushed heavily as they looked at her giggle away. Even the doctor lifted her head to watch her, incredulously.

The French woman tried to stop, already embarrassed, but she couldn’t. Every look at the beaten doctor, the peanut butter eating gorilla and the stupidly grinning energy-ball to her side made it grow worse. She desperately held a hand in front of her mouth but just couldn’t for the life of her stop.

Lena was the first to join in, bursting out into cheerful laughter. Winston’s baritone laugh came in too after he scooped another finger of the stuff into his mouth. It was even too much for the doctor, finally giggling away together will the rest of them, one cheek to the table.

The four of them just laughed for a while.

Amélie felt a strange feeling develop, after so much struggle and strain on her emotions.

It felt like home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing the plot in this chapter, there was suddenly no room left for smut anymore! Sorry!~  
> I've made it extra long though, just to have room in the next one.  
> Please tell me how you liked it dearest reader <3


	9. The Little Bird's Treasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old man Morrison reflects on last chapter, a little bird finds a cutesy treasure and the empress gets new clothes!

Jack stared at the ceiling.

That hadn’t changed for a while. Not when she had entered the room, not when they started to talk.

“Some kind of shock collar, huh? Winston thinks it’ll work?”

Jack’s voice sounded beaten. Not just like someone who had a bad day, more like a marathon runner that came in fourth place after leading the field for an hour.

“He does. Lena and Amélie were relieved, too.”

Her patient twitched at those names, clearly agitated. He began to grumble in blind fury.

“Back in my day I would’ve rammed the butt of my rifle square to that cocky brat’s face!”

Just as he tried to sit up, Angela held him gently down by the shoulder. That finally earned her the grizzled veterans attention. His begrudging gaze produced a shiver in the area around her neck, but it was nothing she couldn’t handle.

“We’re not in the good old days anymore Jack. Please, you need to rest. The burden is no longer on you.”

Jack wouldn’t resist a lady, plus this headache was killing him. So he let himself get pushed back down into the cushion. Even though the doctor smiled, it stung. Morrison was commander no longer, yet the sense of duty would never truly vanish.

He thought back to the moment when his reflexes failed him.

“I would’ve taught that Lena girl a lesson even then, if it wouldn’t hurt so much.”

“What do you mean?”

“Being betrayed. Shocks me every time.”

There was an uncomfortable silence in the room for a while. Both of them had not expected for him to admit to something like this. Their thoughts drifted to Gabriel.

It had been paralyzing, to get attacked by one of his own agents… again. He couldn’t move, didn’t want to move anymore. He had felt miserable. A failure as commander. What else could he call himself?

That’s why Jack had chosen to become a lone wolf vigilante in the first place.

Soldier 76.

Unfit to lead.

“It’s not the same Jack. Lena surely doesn’t think of you in a bad way, she has just grown very protective of Amélie.”

Wasn’t _he_ supposed to be protective of his best friend’s wife? He knew that the murder had been Talon’s work, not that of Gerard’s gentle and ever so cheerful spouse. If only it wasn’t so impossible to trust.

In a way he was jealous of little miss Oxton.

He hoped this collar would work. He hoped that it wouldn’t even have to work, that one day he could apologize to miss Lacroix for being so mistrustful. To finally share his condolences.

That would be nice.

Jack started to stare at the ceiling again.

There was a sad smile, a wish for him to get better, to not worry so much. A small kiss on the forehead. Then the doctor took her leave.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Angela leaned against the closed door of her office, shut her eyes and let out a heavy sigh.

This was way too much for one day. It felt like an emotional rollercoaster running on repeat.

The doctor didn’t want to, but she would have to open her eyes again at some point. She began with the left one.

A pair of curious, yellow eyes looked back at her from below, sitting on a small stool inside her doctor’s office.

Angela contemplated on closing that eye again.

She did.

Half a minute went by before she opened it back up. Amélie had her head tilted sideways now, watching the doctor with furrowed eyebrows.

_Did I expect her to vanish or something?_

She cracked up a bit at that, immediately clearing her throat afterwards and blinking her eyes open.

“Sorry there, I needed a second to think.”

Amélie smiled shyly at the doctor. Angela was a bit surprised to see no confusion in her eyes, but Lena and the others had probably gotten her used to worse behavior.

“Tell me, how do you feel?”

Angela moved over to another stool and sat down in front of Amélie, studying the woman. Her office was arranged in a very practical manner, so she could immediately reach for utensils like a multitude of bandages and remedies.

“It’s… complicated.”

Amélie was fidgeting with her hands and averting her gaze from time to time, before looking back at the doctor. The French girl was taller than Angela, yet she made herself smaller in front of her.

“I feel bad for what happened to monsieur Morrison. It’s good to see everyone again. I’m surprised and relieved that I’m not in chains for…”

There was a sharp intake of breath from Amélie, struggling for a second. She needed to look into the doctor’s eyes for this, her own amber gaze burdened with sorrow and regret.

“It’s good to see you again, Angela. I’m so sorry for what I’ve made you go through, _mon oisillon_. _Je suis vraiment désolé…_ ”

The doctor felt herself tense up. Just as Jack and Gerard, the two women also had been best friends once. A long time ago.

_Mon oisillon._

Little bird, was it? It felt odd to be called that way again. The most curious thing however was that Amélie didn’t even try to hide behind Talon. She was sorry for _her_ wrongdoings.

“So you have a full recollection of what you have done after Gerard’s murder?”

It didn’t look like Amélie had been expecting another reaction from Angela upon calling her by her old pet name. Only hoped.

“Oui.”

“What have they done to you after that?”

“Completed conditioning.”

“Which entailed what exactly?”

It was obvious that Amélie wanted to avoid a detailed description, but the doctor saw no way around it.

“I was… strapped into their medical lab and… tortured. Day and night. By shock mostly. They also pumped me full of medication until I felt no more. They lowered my heartrate to about 10 beats per minute in the process to achieve perfect aim with the rifle.”

Amélie took a deep breath, shivering at the mere thought of continuing. She hated reliving the next part. In the meanwhile, the doctor was reaching for her stethoscope.

“Open up, please.”

The pilot’s jacket was opened without any hesitation. Her chest was exposed, the body suit still torn up below. Angela pressed the cold end of the stethoscope to the slightly less cold, blue chest, counting the beats.

There was something chilling about the three-second-long void in between them.

“Roughly 20 beats per minute. Your heartrate seems to have improved. Why would that be? And somebody has to get you new clothes.”

Amélie blushed ever so slightly at that.

“I… laid off on my medication. And Lena is doing that right now…”

“Lena, huh? That won’t end well for you.”

There was a small chuckle between the two of them.

“About the medication: Why have you done so?”

“I wanted to feel more.”

Angela regarded her cautiously.

“Continue please.”

“ _Bien sûr._ After they drained me of emotions, they tried to associate whatever feeling was left to me to killing. For that… they had some sort of… auto injector strapped to me. It would pump chemicals into my system that made me feel ecstatic at the moment of… the kill.”

Another deep breath. Back when they began to make her perform murders, she still had a shred of conscience left to her. They took that, too.

“…t-they had captives… they made me… they pleaded for mercy… _mon dieu_ … ”

‘ _Refusal again, miss Lacroix? You disappoint. Bring her to the medical lab for another session!’_

Amélie shivered.

“…t-they gave me a knife… they let me lose… _the whole prison wing_ … entering each cell… _it felt so good Angela…_ to see the life fade before my eyes!”

Her voice had grown excited, unbeknownst to herself. At some point between murders, Widowmaker had needed no encouragement anymore. The thrill had been addicting.

They made her do this. They made it feel so _good_. Something in her craved the feeling. It would be easy to break the doctors neck. She could be strong again. It would only take a second!

“Amélie, enough! Stay with me!”

She felt a firm grip dig into both her shoulders. Angela was staring back at her, eyes wide open in disbelief.

Becoming aware of herself, Amélie quickly erased the smile that had developed as she thought about the delicious feeling of ecstasy, surfacing each time she gutted some random nobody below her.

Amélie raised her hands, resting on the doctor’s shoulders, staring at her oh so fragile neck.

A voice made her pause.

_‘Where we will go, you won’t kill anyone anymore. If you do, I never want to see you again.’_

Realization hit her that she was trembling all over. Her body was torn between the feelings of thrill and horror as she pondered on killing the doctor.

The horror quickly overwhelmed her. What was she doing?! She had promised!

**_“Je ne veux plus le faire! Vous ne me pouvez pas forcer de le faire!”_ **

Angela was experiencing a similar horror, as she witnessed Amélie gripping her own head with both hands, pressing down on it as if she wanted to squash it in between them, screaming out in French. The breathing of her patient was erratic, eyes wildly looking around the office in a fit of paranoia.

It was all over as quickly as it came.

The doctor had rolled up with her stool and bent towards Amélie, gently pulling the hysteric girl into a firm embrace. One hand held her back while the other was softly straddling the head beside her.

There was a soothing whisper in her ear.

“Calm down Amélie, _Schätzchen_. It’s okay. Nobody is going to make you do this ever again. _I promise._ ”

The strength in her body slowly let up. Amélie was breathless. It took a moment for her arms to uselessly fall to her sides. Her eyes regained their focus.

That was the second time today that somebody had to hold her. She was so pathetic, so weak. With a shudder, her hands reached back up to return the embrace.

Amélie held back tears. They welled up in her eyes, but not only because the urge to murder was clawing at her mind. Somewhere deep inside she had feared that her best friend would all but hate her by now.

There was an incredible feeling of relief to hear Angela's words, so much so that it drowned out all the destructive thoughts in her head. And it was triggered by something so small.

 

 _Schätzchen_ had been Angela’s pet name for Amélie.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_“We made an emergency quarter ready for you.”_

That’s what Angela had told her.

After her breakdown and subsequent handling of her past, she felt as if some enormous burden was lifted from her shoulders. The doctor had asked a few more questions about minor details and checked her vitals. Then they even went for a cup of tea in the cafeteria.

There was a little smile on Amélie’s lips. A therapy plan was laid out on the desk of her little quarter. She looked forward to it.

Her new, windowless lodging was nothing special. Aside from the bathroom there was a metal desk, a metal chair, a single bed with a metal frame, a metal cupboard and a television. At least she had a rug that wasn’t made out of metal. It was pretty ugly though.

_“Please be aware that you cannot leave the complex without Overwatch supervision. For your own safety.”_

Right. There’s the catch. She was still at least something of a prisoner in here.

The collar on her neck reminded her of this, too. It had been cool at first, but now it had adjusted to her temperature. She didn’t like the look of it. Amélie contemplated on this while checking herself out in the mirror together with the other head on her shoulder.

_Wait what?_

“Lena!”

Her heart skipped a beat. A whole six seconds of nothing.

“What’cha lookin’ at, luv?”

The ex-pilot’s arms found their way around her waist as she was hugging her from behind. Lena had to stand on her tip toes to pull this stunt off.

“Someone… who is vastly overdue to bring me new clothes!”

“D’aww, you missed me! You’re so cute!”

Amélie was pressing her lips tightly together while color rose to her cheeks. This cocky, insolent brat never missed a beat.

“Not as much as being properly clothed.”

“Why I think you’d look most proper without any clothes at all, but that’s just me~”

She could see in the mirror how Lena wiggled stupidly with her eyebrows and pressed a little kiss to her neck. Amélie shivered and made her best impression of annoyance.

“You are really abysmal at flirting, just so you know _Chérie_.”

That was a lie.

“You have to teach me, luv! C’mon, flirt with me!”

She resisted the urge punch that cocky grin off her face. Taking a deep breath, Amélie turned around to properly look at Lena. The girl had two bags behind her.

“Maybe. If I like what you have there.”

“So in a minute then, got it!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

A minute later Amélie was looking at herself in the mirror again.

She was wearing a black shirt that somehow managed to be too loose at the top, so her shoulder would pop out, and too short at the same time, so her stomach wasn’t covered at all. Lena had also bought her a pair of blue jeans hot pants and brown, high heeled sandals.

Amélie was speechless. She didn’t even want to discuss Lena’s choice of pink underwear. The Brit’s head poked in again over her shoulder, grinning widely at her own creation.

“I am NOT walking through the base like this!”

That’s where Lena revealed her plans.

“This is not for the base, dummy! We’re going outside!”

“I can only go outside under supervision Le-“

Amélie turned around again and was stunned. Somehow Lena had also managed to change into something… less compromising. She wore a plain white polo shirt in combination with some blue running shorts and sneakers.

“Hi there lovely, I’m your supervisor for the day!”

Her chronal accelerator also looked way more casual, strapped to her chest by a harness made of some smooth, black fabric. It didn’t have to be so big in a non-combat setting, apparently, as it was barely bothering her when Lena went in to kiss her speechless captive.

Amélie fell head over heels into the kiss. She had longed for Lena’s lips ever since they had left that aircraft, although she would never admit to that. It was so sweet and over way too soon.

“You look gorgeous, luv.”

“T-Thanks..”

“D’aww. That’s it? You’re awful at flirting, you know that?”

Lena teased her with a wink, took her by the hand and dragged Amélie along before the embarrassed, little blueberry could even respond.

By the time they reached the exit, Amélie could’ve died from all the side glances her new outfit had bestowed upon her. The absolute worst was when they heard Angela whistle insinuatingly somewhere behind them.

Jesse had been lucky to hold siesta at this time of day. He wouldn’t have survived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Bien sûr ~ Of course_   
>  _Schätzchen ~ treasure (cutification)_   
>  _Mon oisillon. Je suis vraiment désolé… ~ My little bird. I am so sorry..._   
>  _"Je ne veux plus le faire! Vous ne me pouvez pas forcer de le faire!" ~ I don't want to anymore! You cannot make me do it!_
> 
>  
> 
> Ahh, there is so much stuff to write! The medical scene got a lot longer than expected.  
> It's so much fun to explore Widow's inner conflict! You just know she's gonna crack at some point.  
> I also should really stop promising smut...~  
> But next chapter, promise! <3


	10. Casual Assassins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's chapter 10 already! Extra, extra long for the occasion! Featuring drama, smut, happiness and... despair!  
> Come in and read to your hearts desire! You might wanna sit down for this one though

They were walking hand in hand on Oxford street. It was easily the heart of London when it came to shopping. Designer outlets and landmark stores could be found as far as the eye could reach and the street was bustling with tourists and Londoners.

“What’s wrong with the new clothes, luv?”

Amélie had been constantly staring down her own figure. It wasn’t like she was insecure or anything, but this compromising shirt combined with hot pants was a bit too much. Even for a pleasantly warm summer afternoon as it was today.

“…I’m dressed like a girl of twelve trying to pass off as eighteen.”

“Not quite luv. You’re a woman aged thirty-three trying to pass off as eighteen.”

One of Amélie’s eyebrow twitched. Lena avoided the punch that flew her way with a giggle and blinked to the other side of her fuming French lover. Then she hugged back in with a kiss to the neck.

“It works! You look beau-ti-ful~”

The French woman was debating with herself how many punches it would take to land one on that stupidly grinning face. But since every punch in this impossible outfit would threaten to expose her bra, she settled for a different punishment.

Amélie ignored the cocky Brit, turning her head away with a pout.

“That was the truth, I swear! You’re totally stunning!”

“…”

“You’re not really angry are you?”

“…”

“Nhoooh, c’mon, not fair!”

Lena clearly didn’t know how to deal with that, biting her lower lip and tugging at Amélie’s arm.

“Okay okay, I’m sorry… Bad Lena! You shouldn’t joke about your hot girlfriend.”

Amélie was savoring this moment with a smug smile. This was the first time in months that she had won at anything when it came to Lena. It was quite satisfying. Victory at last!

_Wait, what did she just call me?_

“Girlfriend, Chérie?”

Lena blinked a few times, smiling like a ray of sunshine.

“Yeah! We’re together. You’re my girlfriend. Or… do you prefer ‘ _lover_ ’?”

An insinuating wink was thrown her way. Amélie hadn’t even stopped to consider that the two of them developed something of a relationship.

_“Non.”_

There just hadn’t been any time to think properly. So much happened. She didn’t know to feel about all this yet.

_Girlfriend._

It sounded so... excitingly average. Outright tame. Normal. She liked the sound of it.

“I… need new clothes for the base. Let’s go into this boutique.”

Lena blinked a bit at that curious answer, still smiling but also worried. Partly for her purse. Amélie had set her sight on the most expensive French designer on the street.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The day had been quite stressful, but it was a lot better now.

The image of Amélie’s scantily-clad body was still lingering in her mind. Her cheeks were still burning, too. The two of them had really looked perfect together! Even Angela had whistled after them! So hot!

Hana couldn’t really concentrate on the Starcraft match before her, as she imagined how Lena and Amélie would… well, you know what.

There was a giddy grin on Hana’s lips, only occasionally disturbed by another Dorito, while moving her fleet of Banshees with an attack order. She was having a friendly match for her stream against “Destiny”, the kid which almost died because of her.

After what happened, she apologized profusely for her behavior and reaffirmed everyone that she had everything under control. It turned out that winning a tournament while protecting that kid looked good on paper at least. That was not at all soothing for her mind though, as she tried to keep herself from thinking back to that corpse field.

Playing games, eating chips and listening to K-Pop helped immensely. It was the most calming thing in the world to her. The game would be over in a few seconds, as Destinies economy had already been destroyed by her airborne assaults.

She’d probably go to bed after that. Then secretly look if there were any fanfics for Tracer and Widowmaker. If it was a thing, the internet would have it.

A blinking chat window caught her attention right as she was about to quit the game.

“ _//20MBR4 whispers:_ Want a real challenge?”

Hana stopped dead in her tracks, still a chip between her lips. Someone had whispered her over battle.net and she didn’t recognize ever adding anyone under that weird username. Was that formatting even allowed?

“ _Whispering //20MBR4:_ who r u?”

“ _//20MBR4 whispers:_ A challenger. Scared?”

_Oh no he didn’t…_

She immediately sent a match invite. The profile pic of that weird user was a skull. How edgy. That gave her pause however, as Hana had never seen an icon like that in the game before. And she would know, she had them all!

“ _Whispering //20MBR4:_ u bettr not be cheating! Im streaming this

“ _//20MBR4 whispers:_ I won’t. You aren’t. Let’s have fun just between the two of us chica.

With a quick tab-out she checked her stream and… he was right. Her stream was offline and her fans were going crazy in chat, speculating about her bold challenger.

But she wasn’t about to let this intimidate her! DVa randomed the race she played like she always did while that guy checked in as Terran. Hana initiated the countdown for the match start.

“Very well, you earned yourself a beating by DVa! Show me what you got, script kiddy…”

 

 

* * *

 

 

They were in yet another store.

Lena felt exhausted as if she had just went home from a mission. They must’ve visited at least 8 boutiques by now and her arms were burdened by more and more bags full of expensive clothing. She had already blown through the allowance that they’d set up for Amélie, but couldn’t bring herself to stop the French girl.

She looked so happy while shopping, trying on different clothes, showing herself off to Lena.

The ex-pilot was sitting in front of the changing booths right now. Alongside her were mostly men, waiting for their spouses to finish. Some of them were snoring away.

It was hard for her to understand them. Especially as the curtain was yet again pushed aside.

“What do you think, _ma Chérie_?”

Amélie was wearing an ornamented, white blouse with a black skirt. The top three buttons were left open. She was getting bolder, even posed a bit against the frame of her changing booth. The fabric was slightly transparent and hinted at a missing bra.

Lena could feel saliva pool inside her mouth while staring with dreamy eyes. _  
_

“Thaz’ fantastic love, you’re… fantastic.”

It seemed Lena was bit drained though. She didn’t know how to compliment Amélie anymore. She was simply gorgeous no matter what she tried on.

The French girl shot her an amused smile and vanished back behind the curtain. That would be another pound sum in the triple digits, but Lena didn’t care so much. Her thoughts were somewhat preoccupied with more pleasant fantasies.

It took her a while to register that someone had called for her.

“Lena, could you come help me please?”

The Brit blinked a few times. Whatever would she need her help for? No matter. She left the bags behind and walked up to the changing booth.

"Always ready to help a damsel in dist~woah!"

Suddenly she was being pulled behind the curtain into a soft blue body. Amélie gazed at her, those amber eyes filled with overwhelming desire. The blue assassin's lips were already parted ever so slightly in anticipation.

"I can't wait anymore _Chérie.._."

They both knew what would have to happen. Lena felt like the luckiest girl alive.

Their lips pressed against each other, hungry for another. Lena's hands quickly wrapped around her lover, keeping her close. She needed to tilt her neck because of Amélie's height, but she didn't mind. Her hands roamed the beautiful body that had teased her in the most extravagant outfits for the last 2 hours. Her hands unbuttoned the French girls blouse in a hurry.

"Inside a store, hmm? You're so kinky love~"

"S-Shut up and kiss me again _…!"_

They were both whispering to each other, excited by the prospect of doing it in public, not being able to hold it in anymore. The heat was making them both sweat slightly as they clung to each other.

Amélie was already breathless, melting at the touch of her lover. Lena didn't need any more encouragement as her lips pressed back to reform their steamy, lust-filled kiss. Her hands had cast the blouse wide open and proceeded to cup one of those perfect breasts below. Oh how she had missed this softness! The bud on top was already rock solid. The French girl gasped into her lips as Lena's hand began caressing her lovingly.

“Don’t moan so loud luv, people will hear us~”

She enjoyed to tease her lovely little charge, even now, while slowly guiding her towards the next best wall.

“I-I don’t care… please, _mon Coeur…_ I need you _…”_

Lena lost it as she stared into Amélie’s helplessly pleading eyes. She would make that cute, little blueberry scream in joy, by god.

 

 

* * *

 

 

She could've yelled out in frustration.

Her opponent was crap at micro management. Every engagement they fought, she would edge out a better outcome for herself with superior APM. But this script kiddy knew tactics and macro. Her own meta strategy was countered by him at every turn.

Hana had to focus a lot more than she had to against Destiny. She would still win the game, no doubt, but he gave her a run for her money. There was something off about the strategy he was using.

“ _//20MBR4 whispers:_ How did you phrase it again Hana? “Wat r u doin?! focus!””

Those words sent chill down her neck. That’s what she had whispered in-game to Destiny back at the corpse field of her own making.

“ _Whispering //20MBR4:_ how do u know?!”

“ _//20MBR4 whispers:_ Watch your flank.”

He was right. Red dots appeared on her mini map. She quickly moved in with her units to intercept. That’s when it finally clicked: This guy was using _her_ build order, _her_ strategy that she used to win a tournament 3 major patch cycles ago! He countered her perfectly with her own strategy, that wasn't even supposed to be viable in the current meta game! Why did none of her supposedly ‘grandmaster’ opponents ever come up with that?!

“ _Whispering //20MBR4:_ are u tryin to flatter me with that strat?!"

“ _//20MBR4 whispers:_ Do you always bite your lower lip when you get angry? That’s hot chica.”

Her eyes went wide. That bastard! She grabbed her webcam and threw it against the wall. She needed to crush that guy _now_ , and so she did. The game lasted barely 2 more minute under Hana’s fury, before she struck the killing blow. A satisfied grin grew across her face as she’d beaten that creepy guy.

“ _Whispering //20MBR4:_ easy! sit down & git gud son!”

“ _//20MBR4 whispers:_ That was fun, wasn’t it? You look pretty happy.”

Hana froze, staring at the screen with dread in her stomach. More cameras in her room? Inside the Overwatch HQ? Impossible…

“ _//20MBR4 whispers:_ Behiiind youuu ;-)”

 

 

* * *

 

 

It quickly turned out that making Amélie scream hadn’t been the best idea Lena ever had.

An angry store employee had cast the curtain aside and given them a stern talking to. After hastily putting their clothes back on, they were subsequently thrown out and banned from ever returning.

Both of them were sitting on a bench a few paces away now.

Amélie was feeling outright mortified, hiding her head in Lena’s shoulder to her side. Her gaze had been shyly cast down for the whole ordeal, squirming all the way to the exit. She couldn’t think of anything more embarrassing that had ever happened to her. Her voice was shaky and her head a shade of deep purple.

“ _Mon dieu_ , please someone kill me…”

Lena all of the sudden began to giggle, then to laugh out loud. Apparently what just happened to them was hilarious to her.

Amélie looked up at the crazy girl, incredulously.

“Why are you laughing…?! We were just caught… doing that… in a fine boutique!”

There was no answer for a second there. Amélie made it out like the worst offense in the world, but Lena still laughed so hard that tears came out.

“Have you seen the looks on their faces?! That was priceless!”

The French girl was baffled at first. Blinking a bit, she tried to remember.

All the blushing faces of the mostly rich and stuck up customers had been pretty funny, she had to admit. Amélie bit her lip before she spoke up without thinking too much.

“Most of those men had been sleeping before… we probably made their evening…”

"Even that posh woman who threw us out had been fumbling for words! Bet you she hasn't gone for a proper romp in decades!""

Carefree laughter pierced the busy sounds of Oxford street. Lena's positive attitude and merry nature, they were simply contagious. Amélie couldn't help but chime in with a small giggle, less hiding now, more cuddling up to her fellow partner in crime.

It was blissful, sitting on that bench together for a time, feeling like a perfectly normal and happy couple. Lena had her arm around the giggling French girl's waist while Amélie rested her head on the most dependable shoulder she knew.

If only it could stay that way forever.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

A figure was leaning over her gaming chair.

Hana had stood up in a rush and turned around only to find somebody watching with an amused snicker. That guy looked Hispanic, brown skin and eyes as well with wild and short, black hair. There was some sort of high tech equipment strapped to his arm below the heavy, mud green and grey cloak he was wearing. A black bandana depicting a white skull was covering his mouth.

As that figure lifted a hand in greeting, Hana just pulled the chair away to set that bastard off balance. Then she closed the distance for a strike at his chin.

Her hand was brushed away with one arm, the other wrapping around as if he was mirroring her attack to return the favor. Hana could barely dodge that one! The element of surprise was lost and she retreated back to distance. Then she tried a different angle, only to be repelled again.

The dread in her stomach wouldn’t vanish. Hana’s close quarters abilities were rarely tested and she was becoming painfully aware of that fact. To make matters worse, her opponent seemed to be versed in some form of wild, western martial arts.

_I’ll not lose to some sicko like that!_

Her thoughts hardened as she tried another form of attack.

The longer their fight continued, the more he chipped away at her, striking bruises into her skin. He waited for her like a crouching jaguar, wounding his prey until she would be unable to continue.

She’d lose at this rate. That’s why Hana decided to fight dirty.

With her movements she feigned another attack, closed in on him. He was blocking like usual, so she could predict the counter strike. This time however she willingly took it with a grimace and in turn grabbed him by the shoulders to viciously ram her knee between his legs.

Now _that_ would leave a mark!

…why was he giggling?

Hana struggled to understand what was so funny, as she was being grappled and consecutively thrown by force of her own weight onto the metal framed bed in the room. But only partly, her upper back painfully crashed into the wall instead.

She blacked out for a second there. As soon as she came to, the bastard was towering over her on the bed, sitting on her lap, holding both her hands against the wall. He had pulled his bandana down so she could see his face. Then she noticed her mistake.

“Y-You’re a girl!”

And even quite a feminine one at that. How could she have missed that?! The Hispanic girl regarded her with a chiding smirk.

“You should take more time to observe what you’re fighting, chica.”

All her opponents usually were male! She shivered at the thought that there actually was another girl this good at her game. The bruises all over her body hurt and she had barely any fight left inside her. Struggling against that hold was futile, but she did so anyway.

“Who the fuck are you?! What do you want?!”

“They call me Sombra. And I want you, Hana.”

Hana blushed hard at that bold statement. This girl had broken into a high security military base just because of her?

“W-What the fuck is that supposed to-“

The Korean was cut short by a wild kiss. Her eyes went wide in surprise. This crazy girl just held her against the wall and assaulted her lips against her will. There was no choice left to her.

A tongue quickly pushed in between her lips. She felt the urge to bite down on it but… her body didn’t react. Something was off, resistance was becoming ever more impossible. The kiss felt way too sweet. Some chemical? She felt light-headed, receptive for the wild advances she was being subjected to.

She couldn’t deny that it was thrilling, this foreign feeling. Being beaten and claimed. She hadn’t even known anymore what it was like to lose. A shiver ran down Hana’s spine as she was feeling weaker by the second, heart racing in her chest.

She faintly noticed that Sombra didn't even need to hold her hands up anymore. Instead she was being pulled into a soft and protective embrace. With a dampened moan, Hana would kiss back against her attacker, yielding herself completely.

A few minutes went by like this, then she blissfully passed out.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Half an hour later they were in another store. They were done with boutiques. This time Lena was leading the way, giddy with excitement. Finally her own stomping ground!

“Good old British fashion, luv! I come here for all my odds and ends.”

Amélie conceded that it was nice. Catchy music was playing out of loudspeakers. Most of the wear was casual and looked really comfy. Some grey shirt caught her attention, so she went up to the rack to get a feeling of the fabric. It was soft enough. She took it off to get a better look and then faced towards a nearby mirror. The shirt was big enough to cover everything closely below her waist.

She imagined wearing only this on a Friday evening, walking into the bedroom towards her spouse and especially how she would react.

“You like that one?”

“Oui.”

Lena had resurfaced behind her in the mirror again. Her arms ran around Amélie’s neck, unfolding something around it. A silky black fabric soon made the ugly, metallic collar on her throat vanish from eyesight. Amélie felt herself smile happily at the pleasant surprise.

“That’s much better, isn’t it?”

_“Oui, J'aime beaucoup ça~”_

A playful purr developed behind her, followed by a kiss to her neck.

“I don’t know what you just said luv, but it makes me horny!”

“Do you want us to get banned in here, too?”

“Weren’t you the one dragging me into that booth?”

“Don’t pretend like you resisted at all, _Chérie_ …”

Amélie’s cheeks were glowing from all the teasing banter. She smiled a stupid smile together with Lena, as the Brit finally began to rub off on her. That was all thanks to the trust provided by the collar that was now thinly veiled behind smooth, black silk. She had to thank Winston thoroughly the next time they met.

“Let’s go to the check out and head home.”

That sounded rather nice to her. She liked being normal. Lena let go of her and lead the way. Amélie followed, naturally, and decided to ask the question that had worried her the most throughout this otherwise wonderful evening.

“Lena?”

“Yes luv?”

“Will it always be this way?”

“Of course! We’ll have tons of fun! Not just with shopping, we'll visit shows and go out to lovely restaurants, too! Maybe we'll even have a pint at my favorite pub! How does that sound luv?”

She had already laid out a full weeks worth of activities for the two of them. All so Amélie would witness all the wonderful emotions she had been robbed of. Everything that threatened this prospect, Lena would eliminate. Nothing would stand in between her and her newfound love, her beautiful anchor to sanity.

Something was odd. There hadn’t been an answer yet, so she curiously turned around.

It was just in time to witness Amélie’s motionless body hit the ground.

Lena’s mind went blank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _mon Coeur ~ my heart_  
>  _Oui, J'aime beaucoup ça ~ Yes, I love it a lot_  
>   
> 
> Oh boy oh boy! What will happen to Hana? What's Sombra's real motive? Who did this to Amélie? And how many people will Lena kill in the next 15 minutes?!  
> Questions upon questions!  
> Find out next time in the newest installment ooof _"Lethality of Cheerful Laughter"!_
> 
> I hope nobody minds the second pairing in this chapter, DVa x Sombra was hella fun to write <3  
> In case you're wondering, Sombra is fighting Xilam style!


	11. Snap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Be warned dearest reader, this chapter is earning the explicit tag... and not in the smut kinda way.

Lena’s ears were ringing.

The senses of her body were failing her. Breathing was hard all of the sudden, as if she was drowning. She couldn’t focus her eyes on anything but the lifeless body before her, and even there they darted around like crazy. A feeling of nausea crept up her stomach.

Hearing came back to her. The sounds of mass hysteria pierced through the veil that had clouded her mind. Thinking was hard. The collar, it had to be the collar. She would’ve protected Amélie from anything else. It was the only way. Maybe someone had a heart attack in the-

“…pacified. Engaging target.”

There was a female voice among the chaos. Lena made out three figures clad in black Talon combat uniforms that had entered the store through the back, two of them with assault rifles and one woman with a cap, black ponytail and a silenced pistol. They approached with drawn weapons.

“Hands in the air!”

It took her a moment to recognize the order being balked at her. This was impossible. She was supposed to protect Amélie from all harm. This wasn’t supposed to happen…

_No no no no no no no no…_

_‘Look what you have done Chérie. You cannot protect anyone. Not Mondatta, not me, not even your own sanity.’_

The voice inside her head was back. Something cracked deep inside, tears forming in her eyes as Lena began to laugh. She laughed cheerfully and she laughed so hard, it was outright disturbing to the soldiers and the few civilians remaining in the shop, huddling against corners. Lena faintly heard a man talking behind the voice of Widowmaker.

“She lost it captain. Another tranquilizer round?”

The female Talon agent pulled the trigger on her silenced pistol. Just as the projectile would’ve found its mark, the girl was gone in a fading trail colored like a blue morning sky. Before they could properly react to the now painfully obvious threat, one of their number already went down.

_Tranquilizer! You’re not dead, so would you shut up again, luv? I’m in the middle of saving your sorry arse!_

Tracer abused her acceleration, rammed her knee between one agents legs to crush whatever was in between. He went down nice and easy, gasping for air. With a quick glance she grabbed the knife holstered on his belt, flicked it in her hand and rammed it down between the armor of his chest and helm.

_Unless it’s for a squeal, I love hearing you squeal darling~_

The blade cut through cloth, flesh and windpipe, only to stop halfway through his spine. Blood gushed from the newfound opening, dyeing her hands and the sleeves of her polo shirt.

Lena laughed all the while happily along as a life extinguished below her. She forgot about herself so much, she didn’t even hear the hail of leaden bullets being shot her way. The shock of them entering her waist and stomach from the side was traumatizing. Blood pooled in her mouth, eyes wide, still laughing.

_‘Focus, Chérie. You’re having too much fun.’_

_This is nothing!_

Tracer vanished again. The female agent gasped and tried to give orders while shakily reloading her pistol with a proper magazine, running for cover.

“She’ll reappear there! Aim for the device on her chest!”

The remaining soldier was good. He executed the order almost perfectly, but only managed to pierce hole’s through a rack of shirts before the bullets got stuck in the ground.

Only Widowmaker could rival her speed. It was nothing to her indeed as adrenaline was pumping through her veins like crazy.

The artist in Lena reenacted the moves she had used against Widowmaker back months ago in the Overwatch museum. One blink and one precise kick sent his rifle flying. She grabbed a hold of the weapon with another blink into the air and unloaded on her prey. Unlike the grappling femme fatale back then, for him it was too late. 5.56mm of armor piercing rounds riddled the soldiers body like Swiss cheese.

As Lena brought back ground below her feet, she slowly moved up to him, reveling in the thrill of victory. She knelt down, then gently took the helmet off of him. The black haired man looking of Asian descent gazed up to her in horror, struggling to breathe with a pierced lung, as she was still giggling away with the happiest of smiles. Lena shot him a cheeky wink, stood back up and aimed the barrel of his own gun against his exposed head.

Then she emptied the rest of the magazine.

_See? Everything under control._

Some civilian woman screamed hysterically in one corner as she witnessed the cruelty of this unhinged maniac. Lena didn’t care so much. Slowly, her madly grinning head turned towards the last survivor.

Ruby Yang, the captain of the small recon team was trembling where she stood with eyes wide open. This was supposed to be an easy mission, neither of their targets were armed! Even then she called for backup, because she feared real engagements. That’s why Ruby had signed up to recon in the first place, to be nice and far away from the real fight. She would’ve even ignored the girl, as she was not the objective.

Now both of her subordinates were dead! There was no anger or fury, only blind fear. She pulled the trigger on her pistol and kept doing so, even when Tracer had long since blinked out of the line of fire.

Dreadful clicks indicated that the magazine was empty. The captain fearfully turned around to find Lena beside her, behind the desk she had used as cover, smiling contently. Lena slowly took the gun from Ruby’s trembling hands, then casually threw it away.

“P-Please, we were j-just a reconnaissance team. I-I never wanted to kill anybody!”

The panicking woman slowly edged away, clumsily falling over a stack of clothes that had landed on the ground behind her at some point during the fight. Lena approached calmly in her new, bloody appearance painted over her casual outfit.

“D-Don’t come closer, you freak!”

There was despair in her prey’s voice. It made Lena’s smile only wider, darker, crazier.

Ruby was ultimately driven by her fear to turn around, desperately crawling away on all fours. This was quickly stopped as Lena squarely stomped down on her back, pinning the soon to be former captain to the ground. She knelt down with her other leg, reached for the hair of her prey and forcefully yanked it back.

“Please! Aaah! Please, mercy!”

She had pulled the captains head far enough back so they both could see into each others eyes. Lena was giving her an empathetic smile.

“Sorrey luv. You tried to crash the wrong party.”

Ruby’s head was rammed against the cold, hard stone flooring. The impact made her dizzy. She could taste her own blood, as she had accidentally bitten hard on her tongue. Then she was pulled back up.

“P-Ple-ease… I givup…”

“Oh, it is far too late for that. You bitch shot my girlfriend.”

And so Lena rammed her against the floor again. And again. And again.

Her teeth began to break first. The nose was quick to follow. The sound of her skull cracking, giving in with each bash sickeningly filled the otherwise perfectly quiet room. After around the sixth time, Ruby’s face was barely recognizable. Around the twelfth, her body had stopped to spasm below.

Lena gave it another three, just to make sure.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“They did what?!”

Squad commander Viktor Trgiňa was baffled at what his new, Russian radio operative had just told him.

“The recon team engaged the target, commander. General confirmed the order. Was too good of opportunity not to take, only Widowmaker and code name ‘Time Lord’. It was colossal failure, however.”

There was it again. These stupid code names. He had already wondered why this one wasn’t as bad as the others, until Sanata cracked some old protocols. She found out that Reapers original edgy name for Tracer had been ‘Buzz Fly’ before Widowmaker had requested a name change to ‘Time Lord’. Nonsense, all of it.

He wondered what the fuck recon had been thinking though. Even he knew that Overwatch wouldn’t just let Widowmaker go shopping without some ridiculous precautions.

“How big of a failure are we talking, Sergei? Casualties?”

“Two assault operatives and chief officer Yang.”

“All of them?!”

Trgiňa could barely believe his ears. That was the first time in the history of Talon that a whole unit had been wiped out. Even their platoon had survivors, albeit being a sad comparison.

“Overwatch has gotten more bloodthirsty it seems. And they know we’re coming now.”

He was addressing the whole squad. Talon didn’t fuck around this time, they’d given him six seasoned veterans for this mission. Other than Sergei and Josephine, his tech operative and second in command, there was a demo man, heavy weapons, a medic and two assaults. They were in an aircraft, en route to their destination.

“But we’re the best the organization has to offer. If anyone can succeed at this infiltration mission, it’s us. And since command wants us to succeed, they’ve dedicated an entire platoon to keep Overwatch preoccupied at the front door. Not only that, we have 4 special agents assigned to this mission.”

That had even surprised Viktor himself. He had never worked with any special agents aside from Widowmaker and Reaper.

“We’re going to avenge Yang’s team. Keep a lookout for ‘Time Lord’ as secondary objective. Just don’t forget that the main target is Widowmaker, alive more than dead.”

There was nodding and grumbling in agreement. Then silence. The size of this operation made the whole squad uneasy, even the crazy, Irish demo man. Some time ran by before someone demanded his attention.

“Commander, you must see this.”

“What is it Josephine?”

He had continued to call his squaddies by first name. Graf had always insisted on formalities, while it just came naturally to him.

Viktor moved over to his second in command, who looked like she’d seen a ghost. He began to watch the screen of the device she was holding.

“What is this, some form of medical document?”

“Patient data. Our informant just… sent us these. There’s another one for Widowmaker here too, but…”

Josephine trembled slightly, easily noticeable as the screen was shaking, too.

_// Patient: Graf, Sandra_

_// Age: 38_

_// Affliction: Respiratory distress, severe internal bleeding, chest trauma, fractured neck, fractured spine, fractured rib, fractured…._

He skipped past the long list of symptoms

_// Manner of treatment: Refused._

_// Status: Deceased._

_// Time of death: …_

“They killed her, Viktor. They…”

He laid his arm around her shoulder to calm her down. The American girl almost cried then and there. He wasn’t feeling much better though. It would be harder to focus on the mission now.

“We’ll make them pay.”

“Commander, hate to interrupt but informant is on other channel. Shall I patch her through?”

He raised an eyebrow. Already?

“Go ahead Sergei."

 

 

* * *

 

 

She cleaned her lips with a fresh, white cloth from a pocket of her cloak. The last thing she needed right now was getting even more horny.

That make-out session with Hana had been taxing on her willpower, but there was no fun in playing with unconscious opponents. So Sombra restrained herself, carefully tucking the little Korean into her own bed.

Their game would continue in time. If the chemical Talon had given her as payment for this job did what it said on the tin, Hana wouldn’t be able to forget about her and what they’d done.

There was a satisfied smile stuck on Sombra’s face. She had fantasized about this for too many times. Hana was her idol. Her Starcraft matches, her combat reports, Sombra had studied them all. She knew everything there was to know about Hana. It had been exhilarating to challenge the best and even more so to come out on top and claim that kiss.

Nobody else would be enough. She knew that after watching what DVa had done in South Korea, killing a dozen only to continue a match. Nobody else would understand that life was a game as much as they did.

Sombra treated it as such and loved to gamble.

She had gambled on Talon. The effectiveness of this chemical. That Hana would have too much pride to call for backup. And now she reaped the reward, claiming Hana's gaming chair as her throne.

It was quite comfy, she had to admit. Maybe she’d even get used to these ‘Dorito’ chips, but they left remnants of cheese dust everywhere, so she gave up on them for now. This 'Mountain Dew' was way too sweet, but somewhat tasty. Hana had been drinking with her lips out of that bottle. Sombra blushed a little at the thought.

She began with the boring stuff now, leafing through medical data on her surface device, trying to find information that might be useful to her employer. That was the easy part of the job. The hard part had been infiltrating the system. The local AI, ATHENA, had been everything but compliant in her attempts to gain access.

There was this strange thing with AI’s though. You just need to concoct a fitting bait-subroutine that they could chase after, almost like a dog chasing a squirrel and boom, there was her opening.

“Patch me through to your commander.”

Her voice was altered by a distortion module in her tech kit. Standard stuff, really. She liked to make herself sound dark and evil, like this Vader character in those old interstellar Disney flicks.

“I’m in position. Sending Josey the base layout now. You’ll see your destination and descriptors for points of interest. Remember commander, my location is to stay unharmed or our deal is off.”

Sombra kept tabs on all the big players, which is how she found out about this operation and why she was here in the first place. Talon throwing all their resources at a simple retrieval mission, it was crazy! There was no way she could risk her idol getting hurt in this stupid mission for some blue bitch.

So she offered her help, to make it as smooth as possible. Talon had been very happy to accept.

“What? I’m here to keep the AI off your case, not to babysit your sorry asses, hombre. The back entrance is marked on the map. Security codes are on their way.”

That was a bit of a lie there. She wouldn’t do anything with the AI really. As with so much, Sombra gambled that ATHENA kept herself busy. That always depended on how quickly it could win the game of whack-a-subroutine.

“Try not to die. Oh and tell Josey that she looks absolutely gorgeous today~”

Her plans consisted of something much more entertaining. The Mexican girl killed the com link, stood up and removed her heavy stealth cloak, rolling her shoulders with a satisfied sigh. Her shoes and trousers soon followed, then her top until only a dark green shirt and white panties remained.

Even if she couldn’t play with Hana right now, she would indulge her own fantasies.

Slowly, the Mexican girl slid under the blanket she had tucked Hana under, edging close to her idol so she could watch her sleep and smell her scent. A shy smile developed on her lips. Sombra couldn’t resist putting one arm around the Korean girl and imagined them being together like this.

It was nice to think about. The Mexican girl bit her lower lip, had trouble controlling the excitement welling up inside. Her other hand slid below her own panties as she let her fantasies run wild.

This was easily the best job she had ever taken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to suppress the urge of just using the name of the story as chapter title.  
> This was hard to write.  
> A dime for your thoughts, dearest reader.


	12. Wake up, Princess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a lot of waking up to do. Another Overwatch agent has his debut. Oh and shit's getting real!

She didn’t know what else to do anymore.

The clothes had already been neatly stacked. A small refreshment could be found to the side of the bed in form of a cooled glass of milk and some chocolate-chip cookies. She had redressed herself and put on some of her best perfume to forcefully hide the stench of death, after hastily showering the blood off her body.

She even lit some candles! When else was she going to use them, anyway?

It was getting dark outside. Lena just stared with baited breath at the French girl lying beside her. Was she ever going to wake up? She checked Amélie’s pulse again, slowly getting more and more agitated.

_…no heartbeat! Fuckfuckfuckfuck Maybeshehadanoverreactiontothechemicalinvolvedinthetranq-_

Ba-dum.

_Oh. Yeah. Three seconds in between. Right._

That had to be the fourth time she fell for that.

Ever since the events of the store, Lena had been unable to find rest, to think properly. She was back to doing whatever came to her mind. So she carried Amélie home to her little apartment.

Now that she didn’t know what else to do anymore, waiting was all the more unnerving. Staring at Amélie was the only thing that gave her peace of mind.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Winston had a very bad feeling. And it was definitely not the peanut butter. He always checked the expiration date.

“Athena, are you still trying to catch him?”

_“Yes Winston. The intruder seems to be predicting my calculations. Every time I try to quarantine a cluster, it reappears in another. My core functions will adapt and overcome in approximately 35 minutes and 59 seconds. Correction. 32 minutes and 12 seconds.”_

This was bad, to say the least. Who was smart enough to outplay an AI, even for half an hour?

“As you can hear, our systems are being compromised. There have been reports of Talon activity on Oxford Street nearby.”

He was addressing what little agents were left to him in London, all of them combat ready. They sat in his lab, which also functioned as command room in situations like this. Morrison had quickly recovered from his head trauma and stared at the news report of the Oxford Street attack that Winston had on the big monitor.

“Already saw that one. They want Widowmaker. Since there are no eye witness reports of survivors, they probably underestimated miss Oxton. She’s good at escaping, so they may have lost track of her. Which makes HQ the next target.”

He had his visor on his lap, so they actually saw him narrow his eyes for once as he went through his logic. Angela solemnly added another concern.

“I tried to reach Lena any way I could, but nothing worked. Talon… also might not know that their other agent is dead yet and come for her, too.”

“You two bring up valid points. But Tracer has not fled to this base and our data stores are compromised at the moment. So while I did increase the security level, they might still be on Tracers tra-“

A far-away explosion shook the foundation of the building. The whole room tensed up. Distant gunfire soon followed. The com link before them on the meeting table sprang to life.

**“BWEEP-BWEEP-BWEEP DO-BWEEP”**

“Translate Athena?”

_“Bastion is encountering heavy resistance at the front entrance. He is quite agitated.”_

The large monitor switched away from the news report, back to a plethora of security cameras. There were at least a dozen Talon agents firing from cover and two very distinctive, Australian criminals laying siege to their base at this very moment.

“What the hell?!”

“How couldn’t we see this coming?”

_“The intruder manipulated the security cameras. I just now rebooted this subsystem upon Bastion’s report. There is one more problem. As you can see on camera 8, the hangar doors are opening and do not react to overwrite commands.”_

The AI was right. They were all staring at an aircraft lowering itself into their own damn aircraft hangar as they spoke! This was a full-fledged invasion. Winston got serious.

“Reinhardt, Mercy, assist Bastion at the front entrance! Morrison, mobilize the reserves and meet me at the hangar. We’ll throw these vermin out personally!”

“HAHA! Ze enemy is at our doorstep! Let’s drive them out!”

“Valkyrie online. I’ll watch over you, Reinhardt dear.”

“Quit screwing around and get ready to move!”

Jack put his visor on, clearly itching for a fight. He already started to balk orders in his own com link while heading for the door. Reinhardt lifted his huge hammer and left with Angela in tow.

There was only one agent left with Winston in that room. The great ape was already lumbering over to his tesla cannon, making himself combat ready while he assigned the last order.

“Your task is to find and secure Widowmaker. If we lose her, Talon wins. Make sure that doesn’t happen.”

The agent nodded. With his face being as it was, it was impossible to tell what he thought of his new objective. He went on his way without so much as producing a sound. Then Winston was alone.

He had this curious feeling that he forgot about something, but couldn’t put his finger on it.

 

 

* * *

 

 

She yawned, eyes opening with several blinks.

_Oh god… How long have I been out?_

Hana tried to lift her upper body to take a glance at the clock on the nightstand, but in addition to the aching bruises, there was a weight on her stomach holding her down somewhat. She gave in for the time being and groaned.

_That’s odd. What could…_

As she looked to her side towards the clock, she was suddenly aware again what exactly had been her reason for passing out.

‘It’, or rather she, was lying by her side under the blanket. One of the Mexican girl’s arms hugged her form possessively while it’s owner was apparently sleeping. Her face was way too close. Memories of herself being pinned against the wall and savagely taken by those lips resurfaced in her mind, projecting themselves onto her suddenly burning cheeks.

_That… that bastard probably took advantage of me while I passed out!_

That was her first thought, but feeling herself down, she realized that the Zero Suit she was wearing still clung to her form perfectly sealed. Hana felt anger evaporate, being replaced with confusion instead. She moved on to stare at the girl while absent-mindedly turning to the side towards her, still unable to avert her thoughts from that wild kiss.

_She actually looks… kinda cute when she’s sleeping…_

That train of thought lasted for a while, her mind drifting towards not at all unpleasant fantasies of how sweet it would taste to steal a kiss herself. Her mind immediately stopped when Sombra opened her eyes. The Mexican girl had a dreamy, charming smile on her lips upon recognizing Hana.

_“Mhh, buenos días Chiquita.~”_

For just a moment, Hana blushed furiously at that. Her heart skipped a beat. She had **_never_** been in a situation like this, waking up together with somebody else like lovers would, only knew them through soap operas and fanfics. She was paralyzed with excitement.

_What… what am I gonna do…_

That whole moment lasted for about as long as it took Sombra to slide the hand out of her own panties, bring it up and begin to lick her fingers clean.

Hana blinked incredulously. Her body trembled from embarrassment, humiliation and the sheer insolence.

**“WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY BED YOU FUCKING DEVIANT!”**

The Mexican girl couldn’t help but giggle groggily until a small fist punched her straight in the face.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“YOU’RE AWAKE!”

Amélie looked up into hazelnut eyes, inches away from her own. She flinched at the beyond excited exclamation, way too close to her sensitive ears. It was a bit much to process at first, so she shoved her hand into Lena’s face and pushed the giggling girl away while rubbing one of her eyes awake.

“Too close, Chérie…”

Lena didn’t let that interrupt her giddy mood.

“Finally! You’re awake!”

To the contrary, she started wildly blinking about the bedroom.

“WOOHOO!”

Blink. Amélie tried to follow with slight irritation.

“YEAH!”

Blink. By the gods did her head hurt, but watching this impossible bundle of energy jump around in joy because of her made it outright impossible not to smile.

“AWESO-“

With a telling **POMF** Lena blinked directly into solid surface. Amélie gasped and already wanted to come to her girlfriend’s aid, but not a second later Lena landed on top of the French girl again by recall.

“Phew, I think I hit a wall there!”

A pair of arms and legs pulled the bubbly Brit down to Amélie’s level, hugging her possessively so that she may not attempt anything so stupid again. Hurriedly she planted a kiss on those happily smiling lips in an effort to calm Lena down somewhat.

It was very effective. Lena’s breathing steadied itself after so much excitement, coming into sync with that of her lover.

They were just lying there in each other’s arms for a while, enjoying their first, true time alone together.

The kiss slowly faded and their mutually loving gazes reconnected. Amélie whispered below her breath.

“Don’t scare me like that, _mon Coeur.”_

“Sorry darling, I was just so excited!”

Lena started to get giddy again, so Amélie quickly brought her down with another heartfelt, albeit short kiss to the lips. Once she could be sure to not have her hit a wall again, their little exchange continued.

“Whatever happened? I can only remember being in that favorite store of yours. Where are we?”

“We’re at my lovely apartment! You just, uh… passed out. Someone lost life signs nearby.”

With that, she tapped on the collar around Amélie’s neck, insinuating that a shock had been responsible.

_‘You lie to me.’_

A shiver ran down Lena’s spine at the sudden accusation. She had to contain herself, it was not the real Amélie talking.

_Not directly, I didn’t! It’s… for the better. It’s no good if you worry!_

“Oh, that is… awkward. You carried me all the way then?”

Amélie was looking around the bedroom, getting accustomed to her new surroundings. In the meanwhile, one of Lena’s eyes still twitched from deceiving the French girl. It felt like a cardinal sin, but she told herself that she had to do it. Amélie had to stay sane, become pure, for Lena was neither of these things anymore.

“Y-Yeah, the whole way, haha! Even got all our clothes outta there. That was quite the load, it was! Oh, uhm, not that you’re heavy or anything, you’re like uh… a fresh summer breeze or… ah…”

A curved eyebrow was raised, amusedly listening to the Brit’s attempts at averting disaster.

“…a leaf gently sailing on the wind, yes yes! It’s even a blue leaf, y’know? Quite unexpectedly exotic, if I must say so myself.”

Lena nodded in the most serious manner she could muster. That hit the mark. Amélie couldn’t help but giggle at her goofball of a girlfriend.

_“Tu es si maladroit, ma petite bête…”_

_Saved! That had to be a compliment. God she’s so hot when she’s talking French!_

Lena seized the moment to delve down to Amélie's neck, planting her lips on them all along.

“ _Mon dieu,_ whatever would I do without you? _Merci beaucoup, ma Chérie.~"_

“D’aww, it was nothing, really!”

They giggled with each other for a while before falling into another inevitable kiss. Amélie was obviously thankful, caressing Lena’s cheek and cuddling up to her in an unfamiliar, playful mood. But the groan that followed had to come sooner or later.

“Mhh… my throat is pretty dry… and it’s sadly not going to get better from kisses alone.”

“Oh! I have some nice and cold… uhh… formerly cold milk for you!”

Amélie looked at the nightstand beside the bed and held back a laugh.

“Do I look like _père Noël?”_

“Who?”

“Never mind. That is very nice of you, Lena but…”

“But what, luv?”

“I’m lactose intolerant.”

“Oh.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

A smile was stuck on Lena’s face, more so than usual, if that was even possible.

Who wouldn’t grin like a bumbling idiot when they had a hot lady like that waiting in their own apartment, two rooms away in their own bed, only waiting to resume the sexy times. Her head was spinning from all the kisses. Amélie had a curious way of calming her soul with those, making her thoughts and emotions flow at ease.

“Crap!”

They were flowing a bit too easily right there, as she completely forgot to stop pouring water into the now overflowing, pink-tinted glass. Lena quickly went for a paper towel and drank some off the top after that, to avoid any spilling on the way.

She felt a sudden wind draft.

_Did I leave the kitchen window open…?_

Lena couldn’t remember doing so. So she went up to it and blinked in surprise at who was kneeling on the other side.

“Genj! What are you doing here?”

Green light from the cyborgs body illuminated her. He cocked his head.

“Hello. I am here to bring you two securely back to the headquarter.”

“We would like to stay, thank you very much! Perfectly secure here, no need to worry.”

“Talon is on the move. It was not hard to find you. It is only a matter of time until they do.”

“Well then watch the house or somethin’!”

“Lena we must-“

That’s where she **SLAM** med the window shut in front of him. Then she pulled the curtains, too.

Genji sighed and shook his head in disappointment. He had to remind himself that it was not her fault.

“She is only human.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

That had been more than irritating. It felt bad enough to ignore all of Angela’s calls to find a little peace and quiet with Amélie. Now Genji was outside her apartment! All Lena wanted was for them to be left alone for _just one night_ after all this trouble Amélie had gone through.

_It’s not fair… She deserves to rest._

Well, at least she had made herself clear towards the cyborg. He hopefully wouldn’t bother them anymore. Lena made an effort to recreate the smile she had a few minutes ago and took the cool glass to her bedroom.

“Here we go! Got ya some nice and cool-“

“Oh, Lena. Our friend Genji came to visit! He was just telling me that it is not safe here.”

Lena blinked awkwardly as she stood in the doorway with that glass of water. Genji was in the middle of her bedroom and seemed to have a pleasant conversation with Amélie, who was sitting on the side of the bed.

“Oh shucks, that is awful! Why would that be, Genji?”

He repeated himself and spared Lena the embarrassment of clueing the French girl in on that, even though Lena stared daggers at him. He did clue her in on another matter though, somewhat by accident.

“Talon is on the move. You should know that, since you killed three of them some time ago.”

Lena briefly pondered what her chances were to throw Genji back out of the window he came from. Those thoughts melted away in shame as she felt the French girl’s astonished gaze upon the skin of her neck. She went over to her with an unsteady smile, tried to pass her the glass of water.

Amélie looked at it for what seemed like an eternity.

“We were attacked?”

“Well, kind of, but it was nothing really… “

“You didn’t think I would want to know?”

“I didn’t want you to worry, luv!”

“Who were they?”

Lena blinked at that question, struggling to understand it’s purpose. Those amber eyes were serious enough for her not to ask about it out in the open. Tension in the room was growing palpable. The glass of water still waited to exchange hands and the cold slowly began to become uncomfortable for Lena.

“Why, just… three Talon agents.”

“Nothing more? Just another three Talon agents?”

This was getting more and more irritating for Lena. There was a sting veiled in Amélie’s words. She would only feel worse if she withheld irrelevant information now, so Lena racked her brain.

“Well, she did, their captain that was, did say that they were a reconnaissance team, I guess? Was a short woman, black ponytail and two soldiers with masks on, so I couldn’t really see them.”

Amélie’s face looked more dismayed by the second, as if she didn’t want to believe. It finally dawned upon Lena that the former Talon agent knew these people. Amélie’s voice was calm and reminiscing.

“There is only one female recon captain in Talon. Her name was Yang. Her team spotted targets for me in countless missions. She had been very good at that. But every single time when it came to an engagement, she panicked and hid like a child.”

Her voice turned sour with consternation.

“She wouldn’t hurt a fly out of fear. She was a weak, pathetic woman. Like I am now. And you _killed her?”_

Lena was shocked to the core. She had just assumed that Amélie would feel only contempt for all of Talon. Yet here she was, being looked at in disgust for what she had done, by the person that meant more than the world to her.

“I… b-but they attacked you…”

Amélie talked herself into a quiet, seething rage.

“It really wasn’t even the shock collar then, like you wanted me to think? They wanted to capture me? You were the only one with killing intent, _Chérie_ , weren’t you? Is that your strength?”

Amélie stood up. She towered over Lena with bitterness and disappointment in her voice. Lena felt powerless and small and wrong.

“Shouldn’t I be just another Talon agent to you, too? Or am I? Am I your toy that has to be sheltered and lied to, lest it would break?”

The Brit bit her lip. Breathing was getting harder. _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

“N-No, Amélie of course not! Please, I didn’t know, I didn’t think…”

Amélie was so wrought up, she couldn’t even express herself in English anymore. She just said what was on her mind, and her mind had her talking French. This would be the first time that Lena heard her calm, yet so venomous and saddened at the same time while doing so.

“ _Un héros sanglante tu es._ _Tu n'est pas différent de ce que j'étais avant!“_

Amélie turned sharp on her heels and stormed out of the apartment. Then, nothing. There hadn't even been the courtesy of a slap to partly numb the pain of Lena's heartache with a physical one.

Genji lingered only for a moment before following her outside.

Lena was left standing and speechless, her gaze stuck on the door. Her hand lost its will to hold on and unceremoniously dropped the glass of water. She could feel despair as her heart broke inside her chest. All she had wanted to do was protect Amélie, be there for her. Tears began running down her cheeks.

_‘No matter what you do Chérie, you just keep failing.’_

Lena couldn’t help but laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _père Noël ~ Santa Claus_  
>  _Un héros sanglante tu es. ~ A bloody hero you are._  
>  _Tu es si maladroit ma petite bête ~ You are so awkward, my little fool_  
>  _Tu n'est pas différent de ce que j'étais avant! ~ You are no different from what I was!_  
>   
> 
> There is just no time to rest for our poor lovebirds.~  
> Was it unfair? Understandable? Too assuming? Did Lena get what she deserved?  
> I'm dying to know your thoughts, dearest reader <3


	13. Showtime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor's team hits the ground, Genji and Amélie have a nice talking to and Lena meets some old friends.

“…I _repeat_ , Jayson and Josephine will defend the bird. _That’s an order_.”

His second-in-command was glaring at him the whole time. She clearly didn’t approve of being stuck with guard duty and had said as much. It was not like Josephine would be a hindrance, there was just nobody better suited to keep their only ticket out of here from blowing up.

There was no more room for discussion. Viktor motioned towards the holo-map that Josephine was projecting into the middle of the squad. He hated last minute briefings, but acquiring the blueprints of the base so late made it a necessity.

“We’ll need to move through this corridor behind the canteen towards the medical bay. The target’s cell is here. Her equipment here. We move in groups of two. I’ll lead the charge together with Rania. Sergei and Marco cover the rear. Questions?”

A meek looking Turk with heavy sweat on his forehead immediately took the chance.

“H-How long do we have until the enemy security system is b-back up?”

“Impossible to tell, Doc. Depends on our man inside. Don’t think about it.”

Viktor already missed the last medic that was assigned to him. Doc Khaled’s files showered him in praises, but here and now he was everything but steady. Bad timing to lose his nerves.

“Why do we have to take the detour for her stuff again, boss?”

“Expensive equipment Rania. R&D requested their recovery. Conall will give us ‘access’ to the armory, so no big delay.”

Rania and her twin brother Marco were the most peculiar thing to him. While her bald, grizzled looking brother was nothing less than the embodiment of professionalism, Viktor simply hated how the blue haired woman never seemed to stop chewing bubblegum, throwing in a snarky comments from a seemingly endless supply.

Their briefing was suddenly interrupted.

“ _Security codes accepted, t minus twenty, coming in hot.”_

Their pilot’s voice was barely understandable through all the commotion. Even though the engine sounds roared through the small cabin, it wasn’t enough to drown out the sound of the heavy firefight outside.

“Our distraction has already engaged. Last checkup! I don’t want to catch any of you girls with safety on!”

At a glance he saw his team obeying the order. At least he assumed that of Conall, their Irish demolitionist. Viktor knew jack shit of explosives and even less of grenade launchers.

He checked his own pulse combat rifle, discharging the clip and rearming. One of these babies felt way slicker than the old versions with lead munitions that his twin Moroccan assaults carried. The rest of the squad were equipped with special ordinance in addition to standard Pistols.

As their transport descended into the enemy base, no more words were exchanged. The whole squad was tense and ready for action, except for their medic who continuously fiddled around with his healing gloves. Viktor faintly remembered them being an imitation of the Caduceus equipment from doctor Ziegler. The bird hadn’t even touched grounds when the air lock made way for overwhelming sounds of gunfire from outside the hangar, drowning out his thoughts.

Viktor screamed into his com link. There would be no understanding him otherwise.

“ **GO GO GO!** ”

The squad quickly disembarked under enemy fire. He saw a group of Helix Rockets coming their way, quickly shot out of the air by one of Josephine’s remote controlled defense drones who whizzed past Viktor’s head. Viktor hadn’t even identified the first enemy agents in the hangar yet, as Jayson already opened fire in a storm of 7.62mm bullets at a rate of 6000 per minute from his aircraft-mounted gatling.

He and Rania ran for some metal cased storage boxes under the covering fire from their heavy assault agent.

“The full welcoming committee will arrive shortly! Showtime ladies, move to target!”

The sentence was barely done when a roaring gorilla jumped into the middle of their formation, directly in front of their second assault, throwing down some kind of barrier. They watched with horror as Marco was getting grilled by Winston’s weapon, some kind of weaponized electrical generator. He screamed bloody murder under the shock treatment while the air was filled with the stench of burning flesh and his teams concentrated fire ricocheted off the blue shimmering shield.

This… animal only stopped when hellfire shotgun shells crashed into his armor from within the barrier, making him leap back for cover. Out of black mist their most dangerous special agent made his entrance.

“What are you waiting for?! I will deal with these insects. Move out! **_FIND HER!_** ”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Amélie was fuming visibly.

She needed to be, to stave off various unpleasant emotions from what just had occurred in that small apartment. The cold London air outside at this cursed night made it hard to stay that way though. Her arm hurt after throwing herself against the front door to make leaving that much quicker. She had needed to get away.

Finding out that she had been lied to broke her heart.

Even more so that one of the only people she could've called a friend at Talon had been killed by Lena's hands. It was sick to imagine that Yang probably thought about her actions as a rescue. But maybe she didn't. Amélie would never find out.

Yang had been weak, just like Amélie was now. She couldn't help but empathize with the dead recon captain, finally understanding why she was so fearful and cowardly on their missions. They were alike. Amélie had experienced fear, too. She had been scared on that night in South Korea, scared for her life and had made mistakes because of it. Doubt made her wonder what would happen if Lena had no use for Amélie - her 'pet' - anymore. After all, Lena had shown her how she deals with weak Talon agents.

Out of these doubts, another dreadful thought crept up her spine.

On that one night on the rooftop, if Amélie hadn't enjoyed it like she did… would Lena have continued?

_She wouldn't…_

Used her?

Raped her then and there?

_...Lena…_

“You have lost your way.”

There was a voice talking to her from behind, pulling her conscience away from the abyss. It was Genji. Amélie tried to calm herself, steadying her voice while marching on.

“What do you care how I handle myself?”

“The headquarter is in the opposite direction.”

That stopped Amélie in her tracks. She shot the cyborg a few surprised blinks.

“Oh. You mean… _oui_ , this way then.”

They both turned around and walked side by side through the empty, darkened side streets of London.

“It is good to see you again with your senses intact, miss Lacroix.”

“Senses? More or less… We never had much of a chance to get to know each other.”

“That is true.”

Then silence, neither of them said very much for a while. It was awkward to say the least. Amélie had too much going on in her head to focus on small talk. Secretly, she was thankful for his presence though. It was hard to stay angry while being all alone.

“Lena seems to care a lot about you.”

“As much as a child cares for a toy. She does not think of me as equal.”

Bitterness swung in her voice. She couldn’t shake the feeling of being used.

“Lena tends to behave childlike. Maybe she feels more, but she does not know how to show it.”

“Genji, she showed me too much already. She killed somebody who… who was so fearful every time… who couldn’t hurt a fly if it meant her life…”

“That is regrettable. Lena was probably scared out of her mind for you."

“But… I never asked for her to kill... Surely she would’ve been able to restrain herself.”

“I can’t imagine what it must feel like, to see a loved one fall by my side. Maybe she didn’t know that you were just pacified. Maybe her instinct to protect overpowered all reason.”

Those simple thoughts didn’t even occur to her. It had been so hard to think properly with all the pent up anger inside. It had been mostly against herself, for being so pathetic, for being a target, for getting Lena into this mess.

The worst part though was that she had found a kind of strength in scolding Lena. A strength of principle. Taking the moral high road, seeing the so much stronger agent squirm before her. A shiver ran through Amélie in retrospect.

_I am pathetic, no matter what I do…_

Yet there was one more thing her rage could cling to.

“…even then, she lied to me! As if I wouldn’t be able to handle the truth!”

“You are right. Even though her intentions may be pure, deceit is not acceptable. The ends do not justify the means. I am confident that Lena will realize this and apologize to you in time.”

Amélie blinked at him with a mix of surprise and hope.

“She… will?”

“I lacked restraint once, too, until a certain someone taught me an important lesson. If it is the Lena I know, I am sure she will come around.”

Amélie couldn’t spare any rage anymore. All she felt was remorse for how it all happened and the pitiful urge to crawl back to Lena. But it was too late now, she couldn’t turn back. Even though it was shameful, Amélie found strength in her newfound principles and resisted her submissive desires.

Lena would never see her as equal otherwise.

“Genji?”

“Yo?”

_“…merci.”_

_“Nandemonai.”_

 

 

* * *

 

 

He hated it here. Mainly because nobody was dying yet.

Roadhog tried his luck again after that big, hulking crusader sent another energy wave into the ranks of the Talon agents behind them. They hurried out of the way, except for that one guy who was thrown a few meters back into the air, making the ‘Wilhelm Scream’. Before his hook could connect with one of those juicy looking Overwatch agents though, the shield was back up and his butchers hook was repelled.

Mako grunted. He hated it here.

“ **Jamison. Get rid of that shield already.”**

“I’m righ’ on it Roadie! I’ve got it, this try for sure…”

His partner in crime, Junkrat, was a bit more nervous than usual, mainly because Mako being in a talkative mood was a rare occurrence. Him saying Junkrat’s old name meant that his big partner was suitably angry on top. Oh and of course the continuous gatling fire from this damned Bastion unit didn’t help.

So he stuck out his grenade launcher out around the corner of their cover and shot the whole load blindly in the direction of the crusader’s shield. All of them bonked against it… then hit the ground and rolled away, detonating harmlessly.

“Did I get it?!”

“Hm-hm.”

“Oh… Well on the next try, surely!”

**“Did I ever tell you the definition of insanity?”**

“A buncha times I think!”

That’s when Junkrat reloaded to try again in a few moments. Mako let out a heavy sigh.

Something caught his attention in between the downtime.

“Coming through!”

Mako tried to track the source of this cheery voice and was just in time to see a bubbly girl with spiky hair collide with another Talon agent.

“Uhf, didn’ mean to!”

She quickly blinked on while the guy had his helmet so firmly turned that he couldn’t see anymore and stumbled around, firing blindly, hitting his mates here and there. Mako cracked up with a hearty laugh. Finally, something interesting! There she blinked and directly crashed into portable cover.

“Whoops, sorrey!”

The metal wall fell right over, exposing two Talon agents who were quickly riddled with bullets from the Bastion unit.

With the next blink she stood in front of Roadhog, staggering from slight disorientation after all these collisions.

“Uhh, bigguy! What are you two doing here, luv?”

Mako was still laughing. He gently petted Lena on her spiky head and pulled Jamison over by the shoulder to do the talking.

“Oi, hi there missy! We’re here to… what…”

Jamison was drooling, thinking about what they were doing here again. He caressed his grenade launcher while doing so.

“…blow stuff up I gue-“

**“Hostage.”**

“Ooooh, righ’! We’re here for a hostage! That blue Sheila!”

Tracer was baffled at that, lips wide open.

“But… but that can’t be! She’s no hostage, she isn’t! She’s my girlfriend!”

“Izzat so? Doesn’t wanna leave then?”

“Well, yeah, probably, maybe… got into a bit of a scuffle an hour ago… B-But she wouldn’t wanna leave! At least I don’t want her to…”

The girl was staring at the ground, biting her lip and moved her foot as if she was drawing something in the sand. All the while gunshots were exchanged around them, people were hit and dying, the crusader was screaming something about his shield giving out… you know, irrelevant stuff.

“I’m sorry missy, we gots us a job to do. We’ve gotta go in there and blow up the hostage. Rescue. I mean rescue the hostage. We got a reputation to hold up!”

Tracer looked up at him with big puppy eyes.

“And… and what if I give you another of my shiny pulse bombs?”

Jamison narrowed his eyes at that.

“You aren’t tryin ta bribe us, are ya?”

“Would never think of it! It’s just… a friendly gesture for two good friends! We’re friends, right luv?”

“Hmmmmm… one pulse bomb...”

He looked at her as if she wasn’t off the hook yet, came closer to her face to make it clear that he was serious about this.

“…and…”

His eyes went wide. Tracer was dying of anticipation.

“…a can of red paint!”

Jamison grinned widely, then quickly shot over to Mako and whispered.

“I went out when painting the grenades for today!”

Then he shot back as if nothing happened, staring at Tracer only a few inches away from her face.

“Uhm. Thaz a hard bargain, Junkrat! I dunno… maybe if you guys could take care of those Talon guys who _blatantly_ lied to you about the hostage?”

“DEAL!”

Junkrat laughed manically because of the jackpot he just struck. A shiny pulse bomb _and_ a can of paint just to blow some other dudes up!

“Didn’t like those suits anyway! Hey cobber, let’s go- OH THAT HOON’S GRABBIN’ ALL THE FUN!”

His partner in crime had already begun tearing through the Talon lines, laughing cheerfully in deep baritone while cleaving and scrap-shooting his way through them. Junkrat tried to catch up and lobbed grenades all over the Talon platoon’s cover. Bastion took care of the rest.

Tracer on the other hand was standing there a bit baffled.

“N-No you shouldn’t kill them! Oh my… uh… I… guess it’s okay if it’s not me?”

Lena scratched her head at that, but the voice in her head stayed silent.

So she smiled, shrugged and moved on away from the slaughter behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _nandemonai ~ no problem_  
>     
> Sooo, that was a week of waiting! Sorry for that dearest reader, the words don't flow like they used to.  
> I've gotta give some special thanks to Sneky, SkyDD and my good friend Viktor for helping me with this new chapter and egging me on to make it ready for publishing.  
> Whoever finds the blatant Far Cry reference gets a hug & cookie ~


	14. Mother's intuition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena meets an angry doctor, Amélie meets old friends and Sombra meets Hana's fist!

Suddenly they didn’t have to do much of anything anymore.

In fact, Angela could concentrate on boosting Bastion for once, instead of healing the occasional wounded agent from the moments where Reinhardt’s energy shield recharged.

She looked on with awe at the ensuing chaos. Talon agents fell like flies through the combined efforts of Overwatch manpower and a certain duo of backstabbing criminals. She whispered below her breath.

“This is madness…”

The whole opposing force was in disarray, to say the least. Talon agents were fleeing where they could, others staying to fight a hopeless battle. One of their enemies even ran towards Reinhardts shield, throwing his weapon away and his hands into the air. He was quickly dragged behind their lines to safety while his comrades were blown to shreds.

“Well, zhis has certainly gotten a lot easier for us.”

Reinhardt apparently shared her sentiment, albeit showing his distaste with a grim look instead of Angela’s sick fascination. They stared on for a few moments. Angela faintly noticed a voice to her side, completely oblivious of its arrival in the face of carnage.

“Oi, Bastion! Please stop shooting, would ya?“

Since the omnic was propped up on a crate, Lena actually had to look up to him. It was clearly confused, wagging his repair extension arm at Lena.

“Bweep bweep bweep?”

“They’re my fr… uuuh, acquaintances! I made ‘em switch sides! Sooo, no reason to shoot ‘em, right?”

It considered this for a moment.

“Dwoot.”

Bastion, apparently satisfied with this explanation, reverted back into his assault mode and let himself fall back, ‘sitting’ and maybe even ‘resting’ on the crate. Lena was relieved at that. She had barely arrived and already solved the whole problem! Now she would only need to find Amélie.

As Lena’s thoughts drifted away, she didn’t notice the hand approach that pinched her cheek painfully and dragged her back into reality.

“ _Kleines Fräulein_ , what’s up with your new ‘acquaintances’ and why exactly didn’t you answer any of my calls?!”

“Owowow!”

Angela had stormed over to the time traveler with seething anger, pulling that bubbly cheek to its limit. Lena knew, not even the status as the doctor’s favorite would save her now. Her current predicament made her speech barely audible and she squeezed the eye on the side of the pinch shut, whining pathetically.

“Mooom, I’m shorrey! I… I didn‘ wanna get tracked!“

“Don’t you dare lie to me, miss Oxton! You know fully well that Winston makes sure our channels are as secure as can be!”

_Crap._

Tracer bit her lower lip and looked away.

“I.. shorrey… I jus’… jus’ wan’ed…”

Lena was only whining more, trying to keep her voice down. The agents around them were looking, making this super embarrassing. Angela slowly seemed to notice this too, as she relented with the cheek, letting the small Brit figuratively off the hook for now. Then she looked around. The doctor’s narrowed gaze made most of the onlookers quickly divert their attention, as no agent would risk drawing the ire of miss Ziegler.

Only Bastion was oblivious to this, as he was tracking a fly that buzzed around between them.

“…I just… wanted… for her to be left alone. It’s… it’s not fair! Amélie has gone through so much…”

“I know, _Kleines_. But she’s in danger and we care for her, too. To think you can protect her alone against all of Talon was negligent at best!”

Angela let out a heavy sigh while Tracer was busy rubbing her reddened cheek.

“So what’s going on with these two? You should arrest criminals, not befriend them!”

“They’re actually not so bad if you get to know ‘em?”

A raised eyebrow told Lena that this wasn’t going to fly. It just took a look to the side. Roadhog hooked another screaming victim into range of his scrap cannon, snorting and laughing out loud.

“Yeah, you’re probably right… You know… They helped me get through a tough time when nobody else could understand me… and they helped me bring Amélie back. They even helped us now!”

Another deep sigh. Angela could barely believe her ears and chose to switch the topic.

“Speaking of Amélie, where is she now? I didn’t see her arrive with you.”

“We… we had a bit of a scuffle. I think… Genji is with her now.”

“What did you argue about?”

“She didn’t like how… I killed the agents that came after us. And I kinda lied to her about it. I wish she had slapped me, but she didn’t. She just… left.”

The Brit looked worse by the second, having to remember all that happened. Her eyes were downcast and sullen and her posture had a beaten look to it. Her body shivered a bit. One of her eyes twitched.

“I just… wanna be sane one more time. That’s no crime, right?”

As Angela counted the red flags, she quickly got a hold of Lena’s hands. Everything about the girl screamed instability. The doctor’s tone of voice changed away from disappointment and anger.

“I’m sure it’s nothing major Lena. Couples tend to get into an argument every once in a while, don’t they? It’s normal.”

Lena looked up into a reassuring smile and couldn’t help but return it. Her brown eyes lit up. It was good to not be left alone with her hope, but actually hear somebody say it out loud.

“Yeah, I guess so. I’m… I’m gonna apologize when I see her.”

“You do that, I’m sure Amélie will understand. Genji will bring her here safely in no time. Maybe she is already in the base?”

“She is?”

Being told that, Tracer’s eyes went wide and she didn’t waste any time. She quickly threw herself into a big hug, then rushed off with a blink. She left the Doctor to stare after her quickly vanishing , blue trail in surprise.

“Lena, wait!”

She was cut short as the Brit actually blinked back towards them, orientating herself for a moment, then addressing the first guy that looked like a leader among their own troops.

“Before I forget! When the chap with the smoking hairline comes around, he’ll want a can of red paint! Be a darling and get one for him, yeah?”

Tracer winked, made a mock salute and blinked off again.

Angela was left dumbfounded, at least as much as the recruit that just now received the order to find a can of red paint in a military base.

Reinhardt had walked up to her in his enormous crusader armor, as the fight in front of the headquarters was now well and over. At a quick glance she saw Roadhog sitting on the ground all tuckered out while Junkrat scavenged the battlefield for parts.

_“Sie ist ein ziemlicher Wirbelwind, eh Angie?”_

“ _Ich hoffe bloß sie tut nichts Dummes._ We should go help the others. Bastion, please take care of the entrance.”

A therapy plan already established inside her mind for Lena. She just couldn’t shake the habit. They were ready to go, but Bastion hadn’t answered yet.

Irritated, Angela turned around to see if there was anything wrong.

A fly was resting on his visual sensor and the omnic seemed unwilling to disturb it in any way. His repair arm was wagging impatiently, motioning for them to move on.

“Oookay. Let’s go Rein-… Reinhardt?”

She didn’t find her large friend at first because the crusader had already rushed ahead, stomping down a corridor.

“Of course. Silly me. We’re professionals, right?”

Mercy asked the question mainly to reassure herself, flew after Reinhardt and bemoaned her fate.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Female chuckling could be heard, slowly fading out.

“…threw it at me out of nowhere! After I, of course, expertly evaded he said…”

Genji straightened himself, giving his best impression of a grumpy Japanese man.

_“You bring shame upon our family!”_

The French girl couldn’t stop herself from giggling on. She held her stomach, as it ached somewhat from all the laughter.

“But… you were just eating noodles!”

“That’s what I told Hanzo! But nooo, big bro couldn’t even leave me alone while grabbing a snack at Rikimaru’s. It wasn’t ‘chic’ enough or something.”

Amélie wiped a tear from the side of her left eye. She tried to calm herself and only occasionally fell back into stupid giggles.

“ _Mon dieu_ … You really have to introduce me to this ‘Ramen’ of yours. You make it sound so delicious.”

“Oh it is, miss Lacroix. It’s not the same as it used to be though, with me being a cyborg and all.”

The ninja let out a heavy sigh in reminiscence of his favorite food as they approached a hidden back entrance of the Overwatch headquarters.

“Is this it? You can call me Amélie by the way.”

She could practically hear him smirk behind his mask.

“Heh. I will. It is. This entrance isn’t even on the blueprints. It leads to a storage room in the medical ward. Only common thieves would rummage through there.”

“What about common thieves with infrared?”

“Good point! Answer: Lots of refrigerators around the room.”

He was giving her too much credit. She had worked with that technology for years.

“You really thought about everything, did you?”

“Of course, everything for your safety miss Lacroix!”

“Don’t flatter me, metal boy. I’m taken!”

They both snickered somewhat and she bopped him on the shoulder, careful to not hurt herself on his chassis. Still there were gunshots coming from the other side of the complex. Apparently the siege was still going on, which made the French girl a bit nervous, but with Genji at her side she firmly believed in her safety.

While they approached the metal backdoor, she looked around one more time in the hopes of seeing Lena arriving out of nowhere as she usually did, but there was no such luck. Instead, a small shockwave made her yelp in surprise. She quickly hurried behind Genji.

A figure encased in deep blue armor had landed before them, fist to the ground. She stood up with routine motions and advanced towards the cyborg.

“What are you doing here?!”

“Hello to you, too, miss Amari. I am on a mission from the commander.”

“With her? Bringing her to the enemy is his plan?”

Amélie was peaking over Genji’s shoulder at the new arrival. It was the daughter of somebody she knew well and didn’t look forward to meeting again. She expected for Fareeha Amari to be somewhat predispositioned against her because of those family ties. It would be best to shut up and act meekly. The latter part actually came natural.

“Not exactly, but this still is the safest location in London. What are you doing here?”

“We received two distress signals and chose to come here first. The whole base is under attack! I seriously question your judgment Genji. It would have been best to hide anywhere but here!”

With the press of a cyborg hand to the appropriate sensor, a hatch representing the back door opened into a darkened room. Genji was chuckling light heartedly at the accusation.

“And stand alone against a whole task force of Talon? I’d rather not, miss Amari. I will take my chances with the base and trust…”

His words were not so much interrupted, Genji simply didn’t continue his sentence. Instead his green visor slowly flickered out and he fell back, away from the door, hitting the ground.

Amélie and Fareeha couldn’t comprehend at first what was going on. The French girl’s eyes went wide with fear.

_They’re here!_

Reflexes kicked in. Scared for her life, Amélie dove inside the barely lit storage room. Silent projectiles rushed by her body, barely noticeable, missing her by an inch at a time.

Amélie scrambled to the side of the door and hit a panel aimlessly. Thankfully it worked and the hatch closed.

She pressed herself against the wall next to the hatch, eyes still wide. She tried to think, but fear took hold of every cell in her body. Fear for herself, fear for Genji, fear to never see Lena again. Instead of thinking, she could only listen to what happened outside. Pharah was still out there after all. She even heard her, accompanied by an old, familiar voice.

“MOTHER!”

A heavy sigh.

“I can’t believe that I missed.”

“Was that really necessary?!”

“Of course. It would not do to have that Japanese boy deflecting my shots.”

“He is just sleeping, right?!”

“Of course of course. Calm down Fareeha and get out of my way.”

“Are you serious? I won’t just let you go in there and kill her, mother! We are supposed to protect!”

There was a small pause. Amélie couldn’t move. She thought back to the day where she killed most of Ana Amari’s team before finally taking her left eye. Singh, Bayless, Al-Farouk.

“You don’t know this murderer as I do, _aibna._ As soon as she will get another chance, she will be back to killing our agents. Even now, our people are dying because of her! The only way to keep us all safe is to get rid of her.”

The sounds of Ana’s footsteps approaching made Amélie’s heartrate skyrocket.

“But what if she changed, mother? She didn’t seem like a murderer, more like a frightened child!”

“Oh she did so years ago, too. Then she killed Gerard. I won’t let that happen again. Go help your comrades to avoid casualties that really matter. Take Genji with you. _Go help your doctor._ ”

“I can’t just…”

“You can. Get out of my way, Fareeha. I need to do this.”

Another pause. Then the sounds of shuffling. At last, the roaring sound of a jetpack announced that the last person between her and this avatar of vengeance had departed.

She was left to die.

Amélie froze against the wall. She was hyperventilating and couldn’t move. The hatch to her side slowly opened and a figure entered the room.

“And here I thought I was losing time.”

One eye found and observed her curiously, even though it was filled with hate and spite. She felt like a deer in headlights, sweat running down her face and dread filling her stomach.

“You really should’ve run, my dear.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Her first punch had actually managed to bloody the Mexican girls nose, but mostly served to reinvigorate her fighting spirit.

The next one was blocked and caught by a hand, holding her in place.

“Why I’m in your bed, huh? I already told you, I’m here for you, _chica_.”

Hana grit her teeth. She absolutely couldn’t stand the smug grin that was still plastered across that annoying girl’s facial features. How Hana had been thinking of them as would be lovers mere moments ago was beyond her now.

“And what about what I want, you fucking weirdo?! Ever thought of that?! Die already!”

She tried to wrest her arm free, but couldn’t. So she grabbed a pillow instead and shoved it in that stupidly grinning face. Sombra buried her hand in Hana’s improvised weapon after a few moments of flailing, pulling it off and forcing that side of hands into a stalemate, too. At least that grin had vanished.

“What about it? You should understand. Life is a game. This is a game. We’re playing!”

“The fuck are you-“

Never was her physical inferiority more pronounced as Sombra turned the whole situation around in a heartbeat, forcing herself on top and switching her hold of Hana’s hands to the wrists to pin her down. She stared down at the Korean in sudden seriousness.

“ **Don’t play dumb!** You know what I mean! I’ve seen all your battles! You had fun tearing apart all those inferior idiots who dared to go up against you, didn’t you?! What do you want to do with me? Throw me out? Kill me like them? All you have to do is what you always do, _pequeña_. _To the victor go the spoils.”_

The last part was whispered venomously, way too close. Easily, Sombra pulled Hana’s wrists so she could simply hold her down with one hand. The other was undoing the upper part of her Zero Suit. Sombra had studied it long enough to figure out how to remove Hana’s tight clothing.

“Y-You… You fucking pervert! Let me go already!”

Hana was actually quite startled by the sudden berating from her opponent. There was no use in denying that those words rang true, that she could relate to this way of thinking. Hana treated her battles as games more often than not. If only she could turn this one around…

She was trying to come free, but with the body on top of her and that tight grip on her wrists, there wasn’t much she could do. Her struggling at least delayed whatever it was Sombra tried to do.

“Already giving up? You’ll be losing this way, _pequeña._ ”

“S-Stop calling me that! I’m NOT small!”

Her voice was getting a bit too high there. That remark apparently hit too close to home and exposed one of the few actual insecurities of the Korean. Sombra cracked a big smile at the shriek, softening in tone and gaze as she opened the suit far enough for one of those brown-skinned, nimble hands to enter. She enveloped and gently caressed one of Hana’s A-Cup sized mounds, exploring her prize.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I _love_ smaller girls.”

The Mexican had gotten close again, giving her a sinister smile. Her victim was trying to downplay the sensations, gasping for air. Nobody had ever touched her like that.

“Stop that! I-I’ll _kill_ you once I get-“

Hana had to suppressing a moan as Sombra twirled the nub of her breast. It at least served to shut her up.

“You’re so cute when you get angry, _pequeña_. But you like it, don’t you?”

“You wish! A-And I told you I’m not-“

This time she was silenced by a quite bemused pair of lips, directly pressing onto hers. The kiss quickly sent shivers down Hana’s spine. She wanted to revolt against it, but part of her mind suppressed those urges. Curiously, she felt like the intimate kiss was something she had longed for. It put her at ease, like a drug addict that got her fill after going for too long without.

Sombra was once again claiming Hana with her tongue, parting those quivering lips, never ceasing to keep fondling the small mound she loved so much. Hana was flooded with the sensations she had been trying to get under control and couldn’t resist anymore. She arched her back ever so slightly and full on moaned into the kiss. Her mind couldn’t stop herself from returning it anymore, way too aroused to deny the satisfaction it gave.

Her skin was tingling as another hand slipped inside her suit, making its way down along her stomach. Feelings of excitement and anticipation made her body shiver.

_I lost. She’s claiming me. Oh god, somebody help…_

But no help would arrive.

The hand softly slid below her panties, trailing along her lower lips with those petite fingers. Sombra caressed her victim there and even though her new lover went very gentle on her, Hana struggled to keep herself contained. Her brown eyes were barely open, meekly looking up into those of the Mexican girl. Her arms embraced the form of her new…

_Wait..._

_My arms? …I can move! I’m NOT DONE! FUCK, who does she think she is?!_

All the shame of defeat kindled something raging inside her, urging her to cease the opportunity. Hana’s eyes were burning with a thirst for revenge after all the humiliation she had suffered. Sombra was more than surprised and way too slow to react with both hands too busy to counter. The Korean gripped this insolent girl at the shoulders and used the weight of both their bodies to swing around and straight up throw her off the bed, onto the cold, hard floor of her room.

Something snapped audibly as Sombra hit the ground and cried out in pain. Hana couldn’t care less. She was on top of that cocky brat in a mere second, the body suit hanging down from her shoulders, exposing those petite breasts of hers, tipped off with hardened buds. Her legs were both pressing down on the arms of the Mexican girl to restrict her movement.

Hana’s hands both gripped the throat of her would be lover and pressed down.

“Is THIS what you wanted, huh?!”

Sombra gasped for air, eyes wide. She reckoned one of her ribs was broken. She had fucked up. Big time. Her voice was little more than a croak.

“N-No…!”

“Of course not, you wanted to win. HAH! Dream on! Who do you _think_ you are?! DVa doesn’t lose!”

Hana laughed hysterically.

“I won! Say it! **SAY IT!!** ”

She pressed down harder, as if she wanted to make just that impossible.

“Y-Y… yu… w-wo…n…”

Sombra was struggling to keep her consciousness. She would black out any second now, but Hana finally relented after she got what she wanted, giving the shivering mess below her a chance to breathe. Sombra could only see in bright colors for a few seconds there, completely dumbfounded at how quickly the stakes had turned.

This was it. She would either die or rot away in a cell for the rest of her life. She had gambled and lost.

“Now…”

Sombra was still struggling to fill her lungs with air. She blinked her eyes and could barely see Hana. Those legs were no longer burdening her shoulders though.

“… _to the victor go the spoils_ , was it?”

She could feel warm breath up close, hear whispered, seething words to taunt her, just before a pair of lush lips hungrily pressed themselves against her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Aibna ~ Daughter_  
>  _Pequeña ~ Little one_  
>  _Kleines Fräulein ~ Little Miss_  
>  _Sie ist ein ziemlicher Wirbelwind ~ She's quite the lively one_  
>  _Ich hoffe bloß sie tut nichts Dummes. ~ I just hope she doesn't do anything stupid_  
>   
>   
>  This update has taken too long. I'm truly sorry and hope you enjoyed it, dearest reader!  
> I'm dying to find out what you think about the different scenes! ♡


	15. When everything goes to Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The paths are converging for the final act! A new challenger appears!

_‘No plan survives contact with the enemy.’_

This quote was stuck in his head at times like these. Annoyingly enough, he couldn’t really get rid of it. He picked it up at some point in military academy back in Slovakia, but could barely remember which historical general was famous for it again.

The words rang true when he looked at his team. He started with a squad size of eight, but since they were forced into the last minute plan to hijack Overwatch’s hangar, he made the decision to leave his second in command Josephine together with their heavy weapons specialist to guard the escape vehicle. _Then_ his best assault agent was fried by this Winston character.

That guys sister Rania promptly lost her shit.

That’s when Viktor decided to leave their sorry excuse for a medic behind, too. Not just to calm Rania down, but also because he feared that the twitchy Doc Khaled would botch the mission all by himself in no time.

To sum it up: Viktor already lost his best assault agent, his tech officer, a medic and heavy weapons.

He was left with a drunk demolitionist, a radio specialist speaking broken English and a Moroccan girl that was freaking out about her fried brother.

_What else could go wrong?_

“Commander, word from distraction platoon at front entrance.”

Viktor peaked around another corner for enemy activity before motioning his squad to move on into the next corridor. There was a small hope to hear good news from Sergei, but his gut feeling already knew better.

“Lay it on me.”

“It was total disaster.”

_Knew it._

“How ‘total’ are we speaking, Sergei?”

“Two thirds in casualties, rest retreated or MIA. Platoon commander Voclain reportedly turned himself in to the enemy.”

“He fuckin’ wat?!”

Rania burst out in disbelief. Old man Conall followed up in his rich, Irish accent.

“Never trust a Frenchman, I say! Talking shite all day before hissing the white flag. Useless scut...”

While Viktor took the news with a raised eyebrow, he didn’t bother to comment alongside his squaddies. Truth be told, he was only half surprised to hear of Voclain’s surrender. It even sounded ever more tempting to himself, to just abort the mission as the signs piled up that his team, too, would soon fail at their task. Doubts nested in his mind ever since he lost so many good men and women in South Korea.

He pushed that all aside. They were rapidly running out of time, sure, but their target was mere moments away.

“Focus! Conall, Sergei, the Armory is to your right over there! Secure the objective! Regroup as soon as you are able!”

“Aye commander!”

The Irishmen took another sip from his hip flask before readying the C4 package he would use to create an opening to the armory. There was no time left for nuance, so they had to hope that Widowmaker’s equipment wasn’t right on the other side of the upcoming blast. Viktor only wished that they would have at least given him a sober person to handle the job.

“Rania, with me!”

After that quick glance, they were ready to move out, but Sergei again demanded his attention at the last moment. The Russian was intently listening to his com device.

“Commander! One more news. Operation ‘Antique’ was full success!”

His whole squad was silent for a moment. It was as if a heavy burden was lifted from their shoulders.

He had almost forgotten about that other London mission. Viktor finally nodded and departed with Rania.

As they were running to the end of the corridor, towards Widowmaker’s cell, he could feel the tension in his Moroccan squad mate loosen up a bit. The blue haired woman was talking quietly below her breath, totally out of character.

“They did it, boss... such a relief! Maybe we’ll make it out alive, eh?”

“If we hurry, we won’t even need the backup.”

“That’d be a shame. I’d love to see him tear that fuckin’ ape apart…”

Viktor could hear as Rania’s teeth ground against each other. She reminded him of Josephine and her grudge against all of the Overwatch agents involved in commander Graf’s death. Sadly there simply would not be enough time to think of revenge on D.Va, Reinhardt or this doctor Ziegler.

“Her cell is up ahead. Ready your lock pick!”

“Sure thing boss! I just hope they locked her up again after the last intel on Oxford street.”

_You and me both._

They approached a plain metal door. It was much more simple than the one guarding the entrance to the armory, which surprised Viktor a great deal. He had already feared that explosives would be their only option to get into this room, too.

His surprise had grown palpable as he pushed down the door handle to find it unlocked.

“…the fuck?”

Rania captured their reaction’s quite well. They both stood in the doorway to this supposed “holding cell”, which looked way more like a captains living quarter. There was no sign of Widowmaker. The room was empty, save for a woman’s clothes strewn about. Squad commander Viktor Trgiňa felt a tinge of despair creep up his neck.

“Nothing! Did the hacker dupe us?!”

Viktor entered and studied the clothes. There was Widowmaker’s violet body suit, completely torn at the top. There were tight, yellow spandex pants and a flight jacket. He knew exactly who those belonged to.

“Highly unlikely. This is definitely her room.”

“What are we gonna do now, boss?”

“Improvise. I’ve got a few ideas.”

At least he could draw one answer from this scene: If Overwatch hadn’t felt the need to contain Widowmaker and she probably was in a state of undress with one of the enemies’ agents, together with the intel of that thrift shop on Oxford street… Everything pointed towards Widowmaker going rogue. And since they were rapidly running out of time, there was only one safe option left.

He opened his squad’s com link.

“The target is to be killed on sight. I repeat, kill on sight.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

They ran across the final corridor.

“Ze commotion is still coming from ze hangar!”

“Be careful Reinhardt, it’s right around the corner!”

Gripping her Caduceus staff tightly, she followed behind her big friend. Her skin was tingling with goosebumps. She hated combat situations like the plague and what she saw certainly didn’t help.

Parts of the hangar’s wall had caved into the corridor. While Reinhardt navigated the rubble to position himself in front of their forces, Angela flew directly to those soldiers seeking cover behind the crumbling walls and a big, blue energy bubble. There was another inhabitant inside that bubble, gravely wounded and deeply panting.

“Winston! What happened to you?!”

She immediately turned her Caduceus staff to superficially mend the great apes body. His white armor was riddled and shredded with bullets.

_It will be a pain to remove all of them…_

“Nothing… nothing major, doctor. This mini gun is giving us problems.”

“A mini gun? Why hasn’t it…”

While still focusing on Winston, Angela tried to get a feel for the battlefield. She knew better than anyone how defenseless Bastion would be if he was on his own, so she couldn’t quite understand why a stationary target hadn’t been taken out yet.

At this moment, Reinhardt heatedly fired an energy wave towards the Talon aircraft.

The wave just vanished out of thin air. The grand crusader had to hurry, putting his shield back up as retaliating gunfire already crashed back into his armor.

“Defense drones. The enemy… got a skilled drone operator… on their side.”

Winston flinched and needed to catch his breath between words.

“She’s almost as effective… as Miss Song’s defense matrix.”

Her gaze moved on, as there was one more fight going on. On the far side of the hangar towards the canteen entrance, Soldier 76 was tied up in a duel with Reaper.

“Jack!”

“He… ngh!”

Winston grunted as Angela diverted too much of her attention and let the reconstruction stream slip, exposing her commander to pain again.

“Sorry!”

“He tried to… stop the enemy from entering the base, but Reaper wouldn’t let him.”

Angela watched the fight out of the corner of her eye. Jack was constantly trying to keep his distance, adeptly running and jumping behind cover again and again to let hellfire shells crash into walls and debris instead of their intended target. Reaper on the other hand was growling audibly, constantly trying to close the distance to where his shotguns would be most effective.

_A dance of death._

Neither of them seemed to be able to gain the upper hand. While Reaper’s shots constantly missed their target by a hairs breadth, Jack couldn’t really find an opportunity to get more than a three-bullet salvo in.

“We have to help him!”

“As soon as I’m back in the… condition to, promise.”

He chuckled painfully. Angela redoubled her efforts, biting her lower lip.

“What about Tracer?”

“I haven’t seen her. Is she… supposed to be here?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“You really should’ve run, my dear.”

Ana descended on her with a readied combat knife. Amélie shrieked while she despaired at her shock-frozen body.

_I’ve got to move! PLEASE!_

Finally, her muscles responded. Her arm pulled itself up protectively in reflex. The sharp edge sliced the side of it wide open while the stab was redirected to miss inches above Amélie’s head.

_I’m gonna die!_

The French girl screamed in pain and stumbled away while Ana recovered from the failed stab. Amélie rushed across the barely lit room and had trouble to keep balance. The pain was numbing her sense of direction, so she crashed into a rack of medical supplies and glass bottles. With a deafening ring in her ears, she pushed on.

She could barely hear Ana curse behind her as the rack crashed to the ground, causing more glass to shatter. The door was right in front of her and she opened it with her whole body weight. Because of this, she stumbled outside as it easily gave way and rushed straight into the opposing wall.

“ _Fuck_ …!”

She gasped for air. The blood from her wound was plastered on the wall. While briefly recovering her balance, she stared at it in sickened awe.

A sound of boots breaking shards of glass behind her made her snap out of it.

_I’mgonnadieI’mgonnadieI’mgonnadie…_

Startled like a twitchy rabbit, Amélie ran. As she tried to turn the corner on an intersection, a shot rushed by her head, missing only because she decided against running straight on.

“Lena! Help!”

“Keep screaming, dear! You’ll be easier to track.”

She cried out in dread and desperation, but was soon shut up by her pursuer. After a while her head was spinning. Adrenaline and the sounds of her pursuer kept her going, but the blood loss and sheer panic slowly began taking their toll. Her sight was getting blurry, but not from her weakening body.

_Lena, please save me! Where are you?! I’m gonna die! LENA PLEASE!_

Tears streaked down her cheeks as she ran. Amélie cried out of fear and hopelessness.

The French girl ran on and on, taking corner after corner and finally squeezed her eyes shut in desperation. She didn’t even know where she was anymore. Her body ached after minutes of strain, constantly crashing into walls and losing balance, barely dodging the shots of her tireless pursuer.

_I’m so weak! If this goes on… I’m such a failure, Lena… Maybe I should just… lay down…_

Her legs were already slowing. All her basic instincts rebelled against the thought of surrender, but the rest of her was slowly overpowered with despair.

_Nobody will save me._

As she thought that, Amélie bumped into a body.

The French girl gasped and quickly held onto whatever she collided with to keep her balance. Her body shivered. Whomever she just crashed into felt strong and dependable, something she desperately needed.

Tear stained eyes opened just a moment later to look up.

Her gaze met that of a more than confused looking man.

“C-Captain… Triginjav?”

Viktor picked up his jaw, having dropped it just now, and cleared his throat. He wasn’t alone, which Amélie slowly realized. She recognized them all to be veterans of Talon.

She didn’t notice how the blue haired girl aimed an assault rifle at the back of her head, only the disapproving look from Viktor that unbeknownst to her dissuaded the imminent execution.

“It’s Commander Trgiňa. We’re here to rescue you, agent Widowmaker.”

Amélie had never been so happy to see a familiar face before.

_Rescue me?_

These words filled her with joy.

“Y-You are? Oh I’m so relieved! Congratulations on the promotion, commander Triginjav!”

“TRGI- ah never mind, thank you. We will escort you to our aircraft now, Madame. Your weapon was just recovered.”

The French girl blinked a few times as the white-bearded, grinning Conall shoved Widow’s Kiss into her hands.

“Here you go lass! Good to have you back, I say!”

It was strange to see someone smile at her with such relief. But even more so to feel the weight of her own sniper rifle again. She had already come to terms with never touching another gun in her life.

Then her eyes got big. She looked with great urgency up to the Talon commander.

“Viktor, there’s no more time! We need to run! _She’s behind me!_ ”

“She?”

The veterans around her all immediately tensed up, but even then was it too late.

Soundless shots pierced the air. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the impact. A feathered injector was stuck to Conall’s cheek. His skin around the projectile turned violet. Whatever it was further crawled along beneath his skin, even seeping into his widening, right eye. Whatever the virulent chemical infected promptly withered. His cheeks fell in, his skin turned brittle and his bloodshot eye shriveled while he was still conscious.

The Irishman screamed bloody murder in agony.

At least until another shot hit the throat a second later, withering his vocal cords.

Amélie had been a fool to think she was safe. There it was again, the hopeless dread balling up inside her stomach.

_I’m gonna die._

“ENEMY SPOTTED! COVERING FIRE!”

_Huh?_

Viktor’s voice completely pulled her away from these feelings, in addition to physically pushing her onwards down the corridor. While Conall was still in the process of slumping to the ground for his dying breath, the whole squad sprang into action. The blue haired girl and the other, Siberian seeming agent emptied their leaden magazines towards the other end of the corridor where the shots had come from.

“Stop the pursuer at all cost! Regroup at the bird!”

The commander had his arm around Amélie as he forcefully led her down into more and more corridors of the complex. They ran on for a solid minute. She finally recognized her surroundings again. They were on the way to the cafeteria and could hear shots coming from this direction, too.

“Status report!”

Viktor had talked into his com device, Amélie realized.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_ One minute earlier _

_I knew it! She would betray us all again in a heartbeat._

Ana’s expression hardened as she scoped around the corner, observing the outright cheerful conversation between Widowmaker and the Talon agent she had bumped into. Blood constantly trickled into her vision since she got that head wound from the rack that Widowmaker had thrown onto her in the medical storage room.

The experienced Egyptian didn’t need long to decide upon her actions. Sheer vengeance reinforced her will and senses, simultaneously driving her mind down a one-way street, towards a single conclusion.

Ana would kill them all.

_Grenade launcher. This one first._

Her shots hit with effortless precision. The only downside to her weapon was that one shot wasn’t enough to eliminate an opponent. Ana balanced this fact out with pure speed.

“ENEMY SPOTTED! COVERING FIRE!”

Military efficiency, even in the face of a fallen comrade. The sniper cursed below her breath. This unit had at least some experience, as she actually had to duck to cover to evade the return fire. A glimpse of Widowmaker slipping away made her regret not just eliminating her in the first place, but then she would have to deal with grenades landing at her feet. It would’ve been impossible to do combat.

This was manageable.

She knew their weapons. She knew the magazine size, trajectory and range. So she counted.

Two more shots…

Right as the assault rifle was out of ammunition, she left cover and lobbed a violet glowing grenade in the direction of the hand gun wielding agent. It hit him square in the chest… but didn’t bring him down. The capsule burst and covered his head and torso in the violet chemical agent, withering whatever it came into contact with. The man’s body practically aged as he screamed pathetically. It looked like his flesh was burning away under his skin.

As he was dropping to his knees, his blue haired friend took two more shots to the chest. She, too, fell unceremoniously.

With the rubble taken care of, the avatar of vengeance that was Ana resolved to continue the chase.

_This traitor cannot ever escape again. I WILL make her pay and everybody that dares to help her!_

Ana left her cover and continued down the corridor with a brisk pace.

But something stopped her.

She looked at her feet and saw the mummy-like appearance of the man that had been unfortunate enough to be on the exploding side of her grenade. He was barely hanging on. His voice was a completely mess, almost breaking.

“Who… uses… slow poison…?”

“Get off me.”

There was no time for this. Her boot stomped on the arm that held her leg. It crunched audibly. The chemical had made his bones brittle, prone to breaking with the slightest use of force. Her boot irreversibly crushed his arm.

Ana turned to go ahead, but was stopped yet again. Something had tackled her at the waist and held her in place.

“Some sadistic moron!”

The blue haired girls pained words were forced out with burning anger. That only served to piss Ana off, more so than she already was from the irritation of them actually having enough determination to fight through the chemical.

“Let go, scum! Why aren’t you dead yet?!”

“We are to stop you at all cost, you bitch!”

Only now did Ana realize that her first target hadn’t even died yet. In fact, that stubborn Irishmen stared at her with violet, blood shot eyes and barely any voice left. His withering mouth grinned like something out of a nightmare. He had opened his vest to give Ana the courtesy of comprehending her imminent doom in form of live explosives strapped around his body.

Ana's eye widened.

“Go… ta… hell…”

 

 

* * *

 

 

A deafening explosion rocked the whole complex. Both of them had trouble standing their ground.

“Rania, Sergei, come in!”

Viktor received only static noise. He looked desperate.

“Rania! Sergei!”

Nothing.

They would reach the cafeteria doors in a few seconds. It would be another minute until the hangar at most. Amélie was shocked to the core and kept looking back over her shoulder.

“I’m sorry commander, I…”

“This is not your fault. You are safe, that is all that matters.”

These words came from a hardened face. Amélie didn’t know if Viktor actually meant what he said, but to hear somebody actually care made everything slightly more bearable. Even though she would much rather hear those words from somebody else.

_Lena, where are you?_

 

 

* * *

 

 

The blue energy field around them gave way. Only the large crusader stood between them and the line of fire.

“She was supposed to arrive here before us! We need to move, I’m afraid I won’t be able to patch you up in time before Reinhardt’s shield goes down!”

Winston looked better than before, but still severely battered. He moved to stand up.

“Yes… let’s head for cov-“

“Oh don’t worry loves! The cavalry ‘s here!”

Angela was heavily startled by the voice behind her. All her attention had been on Winston and the duel between Jack and Gabriel.

“Lena!”

“Have you seen Amélie?”

“No, I mean, Lena, we need your help!”

She cocked her head.

“With what?”

“The roaring machine gun?!”

The ex-pilot looked over, slowly nodding in realization of the problem.

“Ohhh. Right! Machine gun. I’ll deal with that in no time, mom!”

Going as fast as she came, Lena departed with a cocky wink and left a thoroughly irritated doctor behind.

“Heh, she’s always full of energy. Who is the dad in her little spiel by the way?”

Growling, Angela redirected the beam for a second there to let Winston experience a healthy dose of pain. He winced appropriately, but still cackled on afterwards in a cheerful fashion.

 

 

* * *

 

 

This was no laughing matter, that man was dangerous. But he knew Gabriel in and out. Who else would be better to fight the Reaper than him?

_Nobody. I will take that traitor down once and for all._

“Look at you, following an ape into battle! Nobody wanted you for commander anymore after last time, huh Jack?"

Like this, Gabriel had taunted him for all of their fight, prodding him into making a mistake. But Jack wouldn't. It was nothing less than a dance of death. One wrong move would spell doom for either one of them and Jack intended to be the one to land that strike. Over the course of the fight, he carefully led Gabriel on and paid attention to timing. Timing between shots, between the reforming of guns and especially of Wraith Form. He tested Gabriel, always jumping, always evading and keeping his distance.

He was like a tiger waiting for his time to pounce.

_Now._

Jack vaulted himself behind cover, looked down the sights and fired a swarm of Helix rockets at where Gabriel would be. He could see the slight surprise behind that skull mask.

As the rockets would impact, at the last second, they instead rushed through their intended target and exploded behind Reaper. Like a menacing spirit, Reaper rushed towards him in this form, but Jack knew it was harmless. In fact, after sidestepping his cover, he ran straight towards the ghostlike form.

_Exactly 3 seconds._

The recognition on Reaper’s face was visible, as expected from a soldier of his caliber. He had been set up. Jack had not only changed his pattern by not running away, like he had done for their entire fight, he had also lured him into a corner.

Gabriel tried to raise his Hellfire Shotguns, but it was too late. As the Wraith Form ran its course, Soldier 76 rammed shoulder first into the black cloaked figure, sending him crashing into the nearby wall.

With a quick step, Jack closed the distance and descended with the butt of his rifle into the skull masked face.

It cracked.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see the culmination of another fight. Tracer had blinked up to the mini gun, rendering the projectile protection of the drones completely useless. With a wink and giggle she attached a pulse bomb to the heavy weapon and blinked away. Panic was visible in the face of the gunner.

The explosion left behind a cloud of blood, gore and machinery.

Overwatch agents at the other end of the hangar cheered loudly. Jack felt like being smug.

“You’re done, Reyes.”

Gabriel had slumped down the wall and found himself on the bad end of his former boss’s rifle. He coughed and tried to regain his composure. It looked like the impact forced all the air out of his lungs.

“Is this the part where you’ll offer me mercy in exchange for surrender?”

“Don’t be silly, you will die for what you’ve done.”

There was still time until Reaper would be able to use Wraith Form again. Jack fully intended to pull the trigger before that happened. Some sort of sick satisfaction kept him from doing so, yet.

Jack wanted nothing more than to see Reyes despair.

But despair he did not. The black figure was beginning to laugh at some unheard joke, frequently interrupted by bloody coughs.

“Reveling in victory then? Don’t you think it’s too early for that, _Jack_?”

“You’re dense if you think that trick will work on…”

In that exact moment an explosion rocked the complex.

Jack hastily checked his surroundings. The other agents were just as surprised as he was and ATHENA wasn’t in any condition to tell them what was going on. What if Reyes really had one more trump card? There would be no time to dawdle like this!

Just as Jack pulled the trigger, one more explosion nearly deafened his left ear. In a split second where time seemed to stand still, he could see huge chunk of concrete that someone had blasted out from the other side of the wall coming closer. It was flying in his direction and effortlessly collided with his body, taking him along its journey to the other side of the hangar. He could feel immense pain as his arm and the left side of his ribcage got practically crushed in an instant.

Through his cracked visor he could see Reinhardt’s form rapidly approaching. The huge German had a blindsided expression on his face and held his shield up in reflex.

The chunk of wall actually got stopped by Reinhardt’s shield, throwing sparks and obliterating the energy wall in the process. As even the huge crusader stumbled backwards from the force of the impact, Jack got catapulted further.

The last thing Jack saw was Angela. She had a horrified expression on her face.

_This won’t end well, will it?_

With a sickening crunch, the world faded to black.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Lena could barely believe what she had seen just now. Morrison had been taken out by something that could use walls as projectiles!

_How cool is that?!_

She observed a huge figure emerging from the rubble. The dust slowly settled and gave way to the image of a man whose body was covered with multiple layers of tattered and torn cloaks. He had the look of a pacific islander, but his most prominent feature was a huge scar across his grizzled face. It looked like something had taken a bite out of him. This impression was reinforced by metal plates bolted to his skull. It made him look more like a cyborg than Genji ever would. A synthetic eye was where the fang of the creature had pierced his original eye. It was studying the situation in the hangar.

Steam was coming off the giant gauntlet he was wearing.

“Doomfist!”

Lena could hear this name repeated among the Overwatch agents, both in reverence and fear.

“ATHENA, how can this be?! The Doomfist is supposed to be under high security in the Overwatch museum!”

It was Winston’s voice now. He was more than agitated.

_“I had no knowledge of a distress call. It seems the hacker has tampered with my message cluster.”_

At the same time, Reaper addressed the new arrival with contempt.

“What took you so long?!”

“Do shut up, Reaper. Command sent you on this mission with almost forty agents.”

For a giant capable of such destruction, the legendary Doomfist had a surprisingly measured, deep voice. His gaze stopped on the single living Talon agent in the hangar. The pulse bomb explosion had thrown Josephine out of the aircraft. She was coughing and trying to lift herself from the rubble she had landed in.

“Disgraceful. I see at least one of them survived. Is that all? Do you even have the girl?”

Reaper struggled back to his feet and looked up with seething anger.

“ _No, this is not all!_ I’ve sent a squad to bring her to me. They will be here any moment now!”

Lena tensed up as she listened to this surreal discussion. Talon had captured Amélie! And they would bring her here. She watched baffled as the two of them argued on. A quick look behind her told Lena that the other Overwatch agents would struggle to stop Doomfist. If Tracer didn't do something, they would get away with Amélie!

The pressure of these thoughts forced a shiver down her spine. This giant had just effortlessly punched a hole into a concrete wall, what would he do to a frail girl like her?

_'Why, he would end you, Chérie.'_

_Y-You're not helping!_

_‘These men are trying to take everything from you. Your love, your confidence, your sanity… But you're too afraid to do something about it, no? You’ll let them have it, no?’_

_Never! I'm NOT afraid! I won’t let them!_

_‘Then fight for it. Do try not to die~’_

Amélie’s voice fired her up like nothing else. The grip around her pulse pistols tightened and her eyes burned with hatred towards this giant of a man.

“Good. Us two should be more than enough to dispose of-“

**“Fuck off! You won’t have her!”**

With a blink into the air she was upon Doomfist, throwing all her might into an overhead kick that was narrowly blocked by his gauntlet.

**“She’s fuckin’ done with you guys!”**

The huge man was startled by her grim look of determination as Tracer blinked on and showered him in pulse fire. A lot of the rounds hit his chest, but it looked like the shots barely chipped at Doomfist’s stamina. With a deep grunt, he threw a powerful punch with his gauntlet. Barely feeling the outskirts of the shock waves he threw was enough for Tracer to quickly blink out of the way as the wall behind her fractured under heavy pressure.

Doomfist had predicted this. His unguarded, meaty fist caught her straight in the chest and sent her flying. Spittle flew from her mouth as she gasped for air. Lena could feel her ribs shatter under the weight of the mighty force from his bare-fisted punch.

Out of sheer reflex she recalled. Arriving at the same spot she was three seconds ago, Lena gripped her chest, nearly hyperventilating from the trauma.

“I know you.”

Her blood ran cold. His full attention was on her. Doomfist approached.

“It took a long time to return my rightful property to me. And I have you to thank for that, do I not miss Oxton?”

Lena shook her head. She tried to bury the dread, her fear of this overwhelming shadow in front of her. She forced the hand away from her chest, back to the pulse pistol. Her breathing was fast and ragged, her teeth grinding against each other.

_‘Why so serious, Chérie?’_

_I don’t know…_

The ex-pilot chuckled.

_Of course._

It was her intent to fight, even at the cost of her own life. To be able to do that, she only knew of one way to free herself from doubt and insecurities. Amélie had taught her how.

_For you, my love._

Slowly, a mad grin found its way back to her lips. A cheerful giggle disturbed the approaching giant, making even the legendary Doomfist hesitate.

“Don’t you know, big guy?"

Lena looked up at him with a wink, tipping an imaginary hat. Then she gave her best Indiana Jones impression.

"That thing belongs in a museum!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhh boy! This is by far my longest chapter yet!  
> I wanted to make it even longer to tie up all the necessary setup, but my proof readers stopped me at 5000 words *pouts*  
> Please tell me how you like it! ♡
> 
> There will only be two more chapters after this one: The great finale and the epilogue! Please stay tuned, dearest reader!~


	16. The Last Laugh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time... for the grand finale! Everything has led up to this moment! Grab some popcorn and a blanket to cuddle with, you'll need it.

“Don’t you know, big guy?"

Lena looked up at him with a wink, tipping an imaginary hat. Then she gave her best Indiana Jones impression.

"That thing belongs in a museum!”

The hangar was eerily quiet after that line, save for some snorting by doctor Ziegler. On one hand, the doctor was horrified by what had happened to Jack and tried to keep him stabilized. On the other, she was apparently the only one in the whole vicinity that found Lena’s joke to be absolutely hilarious.

Doomfist, on the other hand, just raised an eyebrow.

“Are you stupid?”

Lena cocked her head.

“Well, I never stopped to think if I was or wasn’t. I guess I’m pretty clever!”

Besides the two of them talking, the only background noise came from Angela whose stifled laughter devolved into sounds of a dying animal.

“I’ve never seen a more fascinating case of Dunning-Kruger.”

“What’s that?”

“When a person is completely oblivious of their own incompetence.”

“Uuuh, that sounds fascina-”

A shockwave was sent Lena’s way mid-sentence by a weighty punch. She was more than ready for it, this time, quickly blinking out of the way.

“Rude!”

Doomfist didn’t seem phased in the slightest by his opponent’s smooth evasion. The hulking pacific islander continued his attack with both fists. His fighting style tried to keep her occupied with the massive shockwaves from the gauntlet only to follow up with precision, lunging punches from his bare fist.

“Less talking, more dying.”

Tracer dodged all of them with effortless ease, danced and weaved around her infamous enemy, but her resources were rapidly running out. The shots of her pulse pistols connected with their target, yet seemed to barely affect him. They did however singe through the stacks of tattered cloaks Doomfist was wearing, revealing a massive metal chassis below.

“Uuuuh, so you are a cyborg! Did you get into an accident, luv?”

He grunted. Doomfist was getting annoyed by this insolent girl’s tenacity.

“No, I am by choice.”

Another strike somehow predicted her next blink location. The fist was already directly before her eyes when Tracer let herself fall back. It missed her by a hairs breadth and she was struggling to remain balanced on her feet.

“End of the line!”

Doomfist was right. There was neither a recall nor a blink left to her.

_Fuck!_

He prepared his infamous gauntlet for the coup de grace.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_ Three months ago, somewhere in Chile _

“Only throice, eh?”

“Yeah...”

“And rocket boots won’t be enough ye say, missy?”

“Maybe, I got a hunch that she’s too calculating to fall for that one…”

“Well crikey! Lemme think…”

Junkrat and Lena were sitting at a nice desk in a makeshift hobble and brainstormed over some way to improve her combat abilities. He was tinkering on the chronal accelerator she was still wearing in the meanwhile. At first she was anxious about him working on her anchor to this space in time, but there was no room left for doubt anymore.

“Wha’ about… eh, nah…”

Something told her that this finely ornamented desk they were sitting in front of didn’t belong here. The same vibe was coming off the fine tea set that Roadhog was using at that moment. Sometimes Lena would peak over to him. He held a tiny tea cup between two fingers and… kind of just sat there on a chair that was several sizes too small for the Australian. She wondered when the seat would give in.

Roadhog was a bit odd, but a nice fellow overall. Both of them had been very helpful, in fact.

_Maybe they wouldn’t have turned out to be crazy criminals if someone had helped them, too._

That thought made her a little sad, to the point of biting her own lip. This didn’t last long however, as Junkrat cried out.

“EUREKA! I think I could jury rig this thing! Give a little boost to this baby, y’know?”

“Woah, izzat dangerous?”

Junkrat looked up at her with bewilderment. One of his raised eyebrows was happily smoldering all the while. She contemplated on making him aware of the fact, but decided against it.

“Who cares about dangerous? It’ll be loads of fun! Well, yeah, maybe ya won’t be able to blink after a while… or it’ll explode… but that’d be just more fun! And in the meanwhile, you’ll be blinkin’ like craaayzy!”

He giggled obnoxiously.

“I… guess that’s okay. As long as I don’t get lost in time again.”

Winston would surely be able to repair her accelerator if she needed to use this… ‘jury rigged’ overcharge. So she nodded her consent to Junkrat who proceeded with the alterations.

_What’s the worst that could happen?_

She was sitting there, contemplating and watching him work for a while.

“But that doesn’t really improve my combat strength, does it? It only makes me evade more, I guess?”

**“Blinking just makes you faster?”**

Roadhog’s voice made Lena prop up in surprise. Jamison promptly hit his head on the chassis of her accelerator and began cursing accordingly. The big Australian had emptied the tea cup and gently set it down on the expensive table.

_Damn, missed it! How does he even manage to drink with that mask on?!_

“Well uhm… I guess so? I mean, that’s why I run into walls sometimes, instead of just appearing, you know?”

Lena had never really thought about how her ability worked, she just intuitively used the acceleration to her advantage. It was weird to talk about.

**“You smash into walls?”**

“Not really? I kind of reflexively slow down when I approach something solid, I guess.”

**“Why do you slow down?”**

That almost made her laugh. Why would she want to collide with something at full speed? Was he serious?

As she saw how Junkrat gazed up at her with a puzzled look, she remembered how he had been catapulted by his own explosion and left quite a dent in that metal wall back at the bank. Then the implication began to click in her head.

“Ooooh.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

He had observed her combat style, figured out her movement patterns and timings. This should’ve been the opportune time for the finishing blow!

_This isn’t possible!_

“Haha! I’m on fire! Really?!”

She had used another blink into the air, making a mock of his calculations. Doomfist looked up and was in awe by what he saw. The device on her chest was spinning like crazy and had changed colors drastically to a vibrant red, just as did the color of her eyes. A visible aura made electric sparks crack in the tense air around her. Even her hair was spikier than ever before.

Tracer studied her new look with giddy excitement. Then she leaned forward with a menacing grin, readying herself.

_A lightning demon!_

“What have you done?!“

He could barely get this exasperated question out before something smashed into him with unstoppable force. He could feel his skull almost crack, only protected by the metal plates bolted to it. Yet even they dented inwards.

 

 

* * *

 

 

His body felt heavy. Everything hurt, yet Winston ground his teeth against each other and pulled himself up. Mercy no longer had time to look after him, lest Jack would perish. It would be some time before she got him stabilized.

“Zis backpain is killing me…”

Reinhardt seemed to have more problems than himself. Being hit by a propelled wall wasn’t the kind of experience Winston ever wanted to live through himself.

As he studied the fight, Winston had to adjust his glasses. He couldn’t see Tracer anymore.

Only a mad giggle made him aware of the time travelers location. She was up in the air, holding her pistols close as she looked down upon her prey. Sparks flew from her chronal accelerator as it was going faster than it ever should. The obscenely bright, red light it emitted lit up Lena’s widely grinning face into an outright demonic appearance.

“Get stuffed!”

Lena blinked once again, but not to encircle her opponent. No, she blinked directly at him! Winston gasped audible as her accelerating knee collided with Doomfists head. In the space of a moment the acceleration process ejected Tracer, but the momentum kept her going. While her knee cap buried itself in her opponent’s face, her body lost any sense of control and barreled forward.

“Shitshitshit!”

Wheeling with her arms, she fell to the floor together with her opponent. Before they both met the ground however, Lena seemed to remember how to blink and suddenly got out of that predicament. As she stood firmly on her feet once more, she cleared herself of dust and grinned widely, examining her work.

There were cheers from the beaten lesser agents in the hangar as they realized what had happened. Doomfist lay on the ground, his face bloody, nose broken and metal plates dented. Doubtlessly to them, the villainous scientist would have mopped the floor with everyone in the hangar if it wouldn’t have been for their very own heroine. Lena was visibly flattered by the cheers and rubbed the back of her head with one hand.

“D’aww, that was nothing! I’ll give autographs later chaps!”

What only Winston seemed to realize was how Tracer sold herself short. Her leg was shaking visibly. Winston wagered that her kneecap was either broken or severely impaired by that collision. Even worse yet, her adversary wasn't close to being done.

Yet another effortless blink evaded the rising Doomfist in a failed attempt to catch her off guard. Gaining her attention turned out to be folly, as she blinked around him with ludicrous speed, too fast for the simple eye.

_This is too much! The device and her body won't possibly function like that for long!_

It was like watching a man getting assaulted by a red cloud made of thunder. Quick as lightning, Tracer began battering him with her own body at high speeds over and over again. The only thing Doomfist could do was try to shield himself with his fists.

“Reaper, I need your help!”

“Can’t even deal with a girl by yourself, can you?!”

“Quit your attitude, don’t you see her power?”

Reaper quickly entered the fight, his petty ego satisfied with the blow to Doomfist’s pride. Shotgun shells began harassing Tracer from her blinking spots, only for huge fists to follow up the hunt. For all their squabbles, the two villains were fighting together in a ruthless tandem. Tracer was forced on the defensive, blink after blink used to evade.

Winston saw the inevitable. No matter how fast Tracer could blink, they would practically herd her in front of a devastating blow any moment now. Winston could no longer afford to just watch and recuperate.

At his command, the suit he was wearing injected enraging chemicals into his body. His jetpack roared into action as Winston physically grew into a larger form, swelling with red anger.

A giant scientist slammed into the blindsided mercenary with animal ferocity! He grabbed him by the waist with all his might and threw this giant hulk of a man away from Tracer.

**“DOOMFIST! I'M YOUR OPPONENT!”**

The throw had been beyond effective! Doomfist had been severely caught off guard and crashed into a pile of rubble that was left behind from his own destructive influence.

Behind Winston, Tracer was continuing the fight with Reaper, giggling cheerily.

“Thanks big guy! Look, we’re matching colors now~!”

Winston snorted and desperately tried to keep himself focused and angry. Everything still hurt from the numerous bullets that had entered his body. He just hoped that Tracer's chronal accelerator would hold for long enough to finish Reaper and help him out. Winston would barely be able to stand without the chemicals.

Doomfist rose from the rubble. He looked just as tarnished as Winston did, yet he laughed a throaty laugh. Still his gaze betrayed the deep seated hatred Doomfist harbored for his fellow scientist.

“Reaper, you can deal with the girl alone I believe?”

“Sure, go play with the beaten monkey while I do all the work!”

“He’s not a monkey. I have a score to settle with… this… TRAITOR!”

In an uncharacteristic fit of rage, Doomfist threw himself at Winston.

“Traitor?! I never consented to your mad plans, Doomfist!”

They clashed, wrestling with their enormous arms for control of the fight.

“I thought you at least would understand!”

Doomfist raged as old wounds came to light. He lashed out with a mighty headbutt reinforced by pure metal, making Winston stumble backwards.

“You lost your home, even your father to human short-sightedness, just as my home islands sank below the waves!”

“Human ignorance is a problem, but the omnic crisis was never the answer Doomfist!”

That made the formerly composed giant only rage more, following up the distance that Winston had stumbled backwards.

“IT WAS!”

They exchanged inhuman blows, inflicting untold damage upon each other’s bodies before another stalemate came in the form of interlocking fists. They were both heaving from the carnage.

“Don’t you see?! Humanity is unsustainable! The omnics are the future!”

“You had to be stopped! Billions of innocents would’ve died in your mad plans!”

The brawl began yet again. Winston blocked a blow, only to realize too late that is was a feint.

“AS THEY SHOULD!"

The Doomfist itself smashed into his breastplate with full force, catapulting the commander of Overwatch into the next wall 10 meters over.

"Humanity WILL destroy itself, you only delay the inevitable, fool!”

Winston could feel his body going numb, his ears ringing and the voice of his opponent faintly in the distance, yet coming closer. The chemicals in his body had ran their course. He felt weaker by the second.

“You will see, old friend.”

A large, metal fist gripped Winston by the throat. The large gorilla gasped, desperately hoping that Tracer would come to relieve him as planned, yet found her still interlocked in a seemingly even fight with Reaper. Winston realized that his gambit had failed. All hope was lost. Like a common street dog, he was lifted off the ground by his opponent's inhuman strength. Doomfist gazed at him with a mix hatred and smug satisfaction. 

“We will orchestrate another omnic crisis… and I will make sure your little club won’t interfere this time.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

They both lay on the bed, panting and exhausted. At some point the victor had allowed for them to crawl back up into the softness of it. Their remaining clothes were strewn about the place. Hana was cuddling up to the prize she had claimed, resting her head on the collar bone of the slightly bigger girl. A sly grin found its way onto the Koreans face every time she moved a little too much so Sombra had to flinch because of her broken ribs.

_If I had known before how much a sadist she is…_

The Mexican girl was thinking whether she’d done the same again if she knew. Then she looked down at their naked, sweating bodies.

_Eh. Probably._

“Claimed enough of your prize yet?”

“For now, at least. Maybe again in another minute or two?”

“Insatiable...”

They both giggled stupidly at that. A Korean finger trailed along the side of her all the while.

“So… you’re not just here for me, are you?”

“D’aww, I’m hurt Chiquita… of course I’m here just for you~!”

A sudden rub to her rib cage quickly made Sombra quit the teasing while gasping audible at the pain.

“Quit bullshitting, would you?”

_So sadistic!_

“Alright alright! _Dios mio_ … I’m… kinda here to infiltrate the place and weaken security, you know? Something about a French girl. But it’s mainly an excuse to meet you, I swear! Even made them agree that they won’t disturb me in here…”

The Mexican girl was afraid of another unwanted rub and flinched pre-emptively, just in case, but it never came. Instead, there was an entirely welcome rub in form of a light skinned, silky-smooth knee in untold regions. Hana bit her lower lip, completely enchanted.

“That’s so cute of you! I’m happy that you came to be my prize.”

Hana’s voice was eerily sinister as she caressed her new lover’s cheek while kissing the other. A shiver ran down the hacker’s spine, caused by equal parts dread and excitement.

“Haha, y-yeah, me too…”

“Huh, but… a French girl you say?”

“Si. Blue skin, long ponytail. Wasn’t interested in her that much.”

“That’s Amélie! She’s one of my best friends!”

Sombra raised an eyebrow.

“She is?”

“Oh is she ever! I wouldn’t be here without her, you know? She saved my life just a few days back.”

As Hana was remembering what had happened in Seoul and their trip home afterwards, she was smiling heavenly. The girl below her however could feel a pit open in her stomach. It didn’t help that Hana was looking at her again with curiosity once she finished reminiscing.

“What do your guys want from her, anyway? More rabid fans like you?”

Her expression was so incredibly naïve, it could’ve melted icebergs. Sombra knew that her associates were here to either kidnap or kill the French girl, but she couldn’t just tell Hana the truth!

_Unless I want more of my ribs broken. La cagué._

Practically out of nowhere, Sombra pushed her new lover to the side and hurried to stand up from the bed.

“Hey!”

She flinched all the while from her physical impairment, yet soldiered through until she reached Hana’s gaming station, picking up her tools on the way. Hana was looking at her go in puzzled disbelieve.

“What do you think you’re doing?!”

Purple visuals already flared up around Sombra. The hacking device on her right hand navigated the menus with trained precision and ludicrous speed, yet she stopped after a few moments dead in her tracks, looking over her shoulder.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m switching sides. _Si no es problema para ti_?”

For all the cockiness of her words and that one obnoxious wink, Sombra’s smile was quite nervous in stark contrast. Hana contemplated a biting remark, but held back. Instead she stood up, walked behind her own gaming chair and watched Sombra work while her arms slowly hugged the frantically hacking girl from behind.

“That’s a coincidence. We could use a new security advisor with all the perverted girls breaking into my room lately.”

Hana sought to calm her down with that little quip and a kiss to the neck… and succeeded judging by the shy smile on her new girlfriend’s lips.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“STAY STILL ALREADY!”

Reaper cursed, mad as ever and Tracer was delighted by that fact. With cheery giggles she surrounded the black clad villain like an angry bee swarm and occasionally lashed out. Her whole body was trembling by this point from all the impacts, but adrenaline was one hell of a drug.

“That would be kinda stupid of me, wouldn’ it?”

“THE HELL DO I CARE?!”

He was however way better equipped to handle her than his colleague had been. His hellfire shotguns denied a large chunk of area at a time and constantly kept her at a distance. She couldn’t quite as easily get close to him as she could with a melee fighter like Doomfist, so she went with her pulse pistols most of the time. Every time she even saw an opening, Tracer just straight up blinked, but only through his Wraith Form. Her pulse rounds nevertheless took their toll. She would have him whittled down in the next minute. 

“STOP WASTING TIME!”

It was delicious to her, watching him struggle with his inevitable defeat. Together the two villains might have bested her, but Reaper alone was nothing more than her plaything. It was also a good thing that she didn’t think much about her status, as the blinks were again starting to ramp up on cooldown. The overcharge seemed to slowly recede.

_More than enough to beat this chump!_

Yet again Reaper was forced to retreat into Wraith Form. Lena blinked around him, taunting him and sticking her tongue out.

“Who’s wasting time, eh? Ohh, it’s you! That’s funny.”

The former Blackwatch agent raged to the boiling point, just like she wanted. As he left Wraith Form to shout a retort, she chose the exact millisecond to blink her elbow into his face! With a satisfying crunch, his mask cracked and Reaper went down quite unceremoniously. Lena towered over him with a mad grin on her lips and started to sing.

“Stupiiid! Stupid stupid stupid Reaper, kihihihi-ouch!”

In the middle of her maniacal laughter, something blunt hit the back of her head. Turning around, she saw the culprit.

There was the last remaining Talon agent in the hangar. Tracers pulse bomb had thrown her out of the aircraft a while back. Her legs were buried by debris and she had apparently launched a small rock at her.

_Seriously?_

Lena approached with a blink, too quick and close for comfort. The determined gaze of the blonde agent slowly eroded away. She wouldn’t be able to move out the way and that rock had been the only throwable object in the vicinity.

“You got my attention, lass! That’s what you wanted, right?”

Tracer leisurely pointed one of her pulse pistol at the nuisance.

“Isn’t your boss just to die for?”

Sadistic thrill made Lena shiver with delight. Her demonic grin terrified her helpless adversary. Slowly, her finger pulled the trigger of her pulse pistol downwards to execute her target.

“LENA!”

Time stood still.

_Amelie!_

Lena turned her head towards the source of the shout and indeed, in the doorway to the cafeteria stood her anchor to sanity.

_Oh god, I almost did it again! What a relief that she arrived in time. I still have to apologize for last time I killed one of her colleagues!_

The madness literally drained out of Lena. Her demonic expression turned to one of soft delight. Her gun arm lowered itself, while the overcharge on her chronal accelerator flickered in dying motions until only a dim, light blue glow remained. The air around her and even her hair calmed down. Her senses dulled in the aftermath, adjusting to the sudden change. Her ears were ringing.

_Everything is gonna be alright now! I can’t wait to just sink beneath the sheets and forgot all about this. Curious though, why is she looking so distraught? I can’t hear… Huh, why am I falling?_

Time unwinded with an ear-splitting bang. Her hearing came back with it and was instantly shell-shocked. The sweet numbness provided by the static electricity that had coursed through her body faded quickly and adrenaline was no longer enough to keep her together. Immense pain assaulted her body from without and within, but especially in her left leg. In the process of panicking she looked down there.

Reaper was standing to her side. It was a phantom pain. He had shredded her lower leg with his shells from point blank, messily severing it below the knee.

Blood was everywhere as she fell to her knees.

She couldn’t believe her eyes. Lena was feeling nauseous. There was no breath left in her lungs, yet she had to scream.

 

 

* * *

 

Amélie had rushed at the scene without thinking! This all wouldn’t have happened if she didn’t distract Lena!

She was deeply in panic, more than she had been when running from Ana. The sight of her loved one mutilated made her heart beat upwards, all the way to her gut. She ran towards her. It was only when she slowed her approach and finally stood in front of Lena that she noticed her second mindless folly.

A meter away Reaper waited. Amélie had begun to fear him ever since she stopped taking her medicine, culminating in this climax of hysteria. He was observing her keenly. His mask was broken, making him look even more terrifying.

“It’s good to see you well, Widowmaker.”

It was impossible to discern whether he meant it. Reaper had this habit of talking in a constantly sarcastic tone. Either way, a cold shiver ran down Amélie’s spine.

Lena was kneeling in front of her. Her expression was wrecked by pain and stained by tears. Amélie couldn’t look down there for more than a second. The pragmatic part of her mind that wasn’t either terrified, guilt-ridden or panicking realized the modus operandi she had to take.

One deep breath.

“You… could use a new mask. Are we done here?”

Amélie looked around the hangar, mainly to escape Reaper’s gaze. Looking him in his black, heartless eyes would give her away in an instant. The same was the case for looking down to her love. It took the last shreds of her will not to do so. Yet everywhere else was so much destruction, all because of her.

“Sure. Just cleaning up the trash.”

He aimed one of his shotguns squarely at Lena’s head.

“Wait!”

There was a pause in his motions. He was studying her with scrutiny now.

“I… I mean, haven’t you learned anything? I already told you, it’s much more efficient against morale to have her alive and suffering. You shot her leg off, what’s she supposed to do?”

Amélie couldn’t believe her own words. She felt like the worst. It took all her resolve for her voice not to break up.

Reaper’s black eyes narrowed behind the shadow of his cowl.

“No. She dies.”

“You… you can’t! She’s mine! Your mission is to get me out of here, so I won’t come with you if you steal my prey!”

Now he was laughing. The sinister cackle gave her another shiver down the spine, which she did her best not to show.

“Like a petty child. Didn’t the commander tell you? Our mission is to bring you alive… **or dead**.”

Suddenly she was facing the barrel of his other hellfire shotgun. Her heart sank, this time with a visible cold shiver.

“But you know me, Widow… I’m a nice guy.”

His black eyes narrowed again, this time with sick amusement.

“I’ll let you do the honors.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The sound of hard-fought battle made him come to amidst the rubble, even though the vision was still blurry. His armor had been crushed, which made it hard to breathe. Winston realized that Reinhardt had intervened before Doomfist could deal the finishing blow to him. Still, the scenery that opened before him was dire to say the least.

“Zis cannot be! Lena, I’m coming!”

Reinhardt only narrowly managed to parry Doomfist's next attack, which quickly reminded him of who his opponent was.

“You’ll have to get through me first, tin soldier.”

Winston looked on along the hangar and spotted Widowmaker, running towards her wounded companion. The talon agent beside her seemed to be caught off guard by this and quickly followed.

_“Winston?”_

“Oh, Athena… It’s still a few minutes off, isn’t it?”

_“Good news. An insider is rapidly clearing up clusters.”_

Now that was surprising to the scientist.

“Who could…”

Athena cut him off, since Winston was out of breath anyway.

_“The insider is operating from miss Song’s quarters. At this rate, hangar defenses will be up in 127 seconds.”_

Winston let his head fall back against the wall.

_I knew I forgot someone! I’m so stupid…_

“DVa, huh? I guess she’s bound to be good with computers…”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The implication stunned her for a moment. Reaper would kill her, point blank, if she wouldn’t end Lena. Widow’s Kiss was weighing down like a terrible burden right now.

_I… I can’t. I absolutely won’t. I can’t live as a betrayer. Not again!_

Her decision was set. For all the pretty thoughts, however, her body was shivering with cowardice. She could barely hold her rifle steady and the hopelessness of what she was about to do made breathing hard.

_He can’t make me… I’ll… I’ll just pull up and fire at him. I hope he kills me quickly…_

After a moments hesitation, she initiated the motion, but couldn’t manage to pull up Widow’s Kiss. It took Amélie, utterly confused, a moment to realize that Lena herself had gripped the barrel of her gun.

“Traitor”

A raspy, tearing voice addressed her with audible venom.

“L-Lena?”

“You promised…”

She looked down with widened eyes and disbelief. What was she saying at a moment like this?

“This isn’t the time-“

“Why do you have your gun?”

“Please just let go-”

“Why did you run from me?”

This was getting ridiculous. Nervously she monitored Reaper’s status while half-heartedly trying to retort.

“B-Because-“

“I was supposed to protect you!”

“I… I know-”

“YOU PROMISED!”

The voice below was getting shrill, shredding itself with every word. Amélie gazed into tear-filled eyes amidst a face drained of blood. She could no longer keep the charade alive, desperately trying to explain herself.

“Lena, I didn’t want this, it’s not like-“

“I **trusted** you…”

The words were like a dagger to the heart. To breathe was getting impossible. All this destruction was her fault. Guilt weighed her down, yet hearing the accusations from her loved one is what broke her inside.

They were both crying at this point. Lena looked like she would faint any second now with all the blood loss and pain she must have endured. Amélie could make out the shouts of Angela and Reinhardt at the edge of her hearing, but she couldn’t make out what was said.

There was a tug at her rifle, pointing it downward towards Lena’s heart, right to the edge of her exhausted chronal accelerator.

“Finish it.”

Lena’s voice was nothing more than a husk of what it once was. Amélie couldn’t stand looking at her anymore, shut her eyes in the face of despair.

“I… I can’t…”

The presence of Reaper was completely forgotten. She didn’t even want to look over. It would be a sweet relief to be shot in the head at this point, ending the pain. There would be no such luck. He probably delighted in this once-in-a-lifetime chance to see them suffering.

“You can.”

Lena’s voice broke even further. She was pleading at this point in a whispered, desperate tone.

A shadow clouded Amélie’s mind. Her own cowardice feasted on the suffering she went through, the destruction she had wrought with her mere presence.

_Why did I run… Why have I come here… Why did I call out to you… I’ve ruined everything!_

A cold hand laid itself on her own, caressed her. She could feel a thumb enacting pressure on the finger that would end it all.

"Release me"

_This… this is what she wants._

A shot echoed across the hangar.

Amélie opened her eyes, looking at her lover for a last time. There was a smile. A cheerful, reminiscing smile on the little Brit’s lips, paired with immense relief. Those lips parted and Lena laughed happily with her broken voice until blood filled her mouth.

She suddenly understood that Lena hadn’t meant any of the accusations, just meant to make it easier.

The cold hand slipped from Amélie’s. Lena’s eyes rolled back as her body lost its will to kneel upright, falling forward. The French girl quickly darted downwards to catch the smaller body, letting go of Widow’s Kiss in the process. Again, she could hear the yells and cries of Angela and Reinhardt, reacting to the death of a symbol, but her instincts tuned them out. She didn’t want to hear it. She betrayed them all.

Amélie’s breathing was ragged as her brain tried to comprehend what had happened.

_What have I done?_

There was another laughter, deeper and darker, interrupting her thoughts.

“Delightful! You broke her poor little heart, metaphorically and literally. That’s the second time now, isn’t it? Aiming for a hat trick?”

Reaper reminded her with glee that this wasn’t the first time she had betrayed a loved one for Talon. Thinking of Gerard only made the pit in her stomach deepen.

“They really made you good at following orders. You even killed her on her own behest! What a **good little two-faced spider** you are.”

With shivering hands, she rolled Lena onto her back and carefully caressed that expressionless face. The mocking tone stung. Amélie knew it was true. With all the care and trust that Lena showed her, in the end she was still just a tool used for betrayal. The thought tore her apart inside.

_Everything I touch goes to ruin…_

A sudden roar of machinery coming to life stopped Reaper from mocking her further. Amélie couldn’t care less either way.

“Agent Reaper, we need to get out of here! The hangar roof is closing in on us!”

“DAMN! Get your act together Widowmaker, no more time to play!”

“Just… just a moment.”

Reaper wasn’t in the least hesitant to turn around. She had reaffirmed her conditioning after all.

“Hurry up!”

Amélie did not hurry up. She still tried to comprehend.

_I never told you, how much you mean to me._

That thought alone crushed her. She couldn’t remember ever crying so hard before, being so torn in her life. Now she longed for the emotionless relief she had enjoyed for all these years.

_Maybe I should go back._

While one hand straddled Lena’s motionless head, the other ran along the side of her dead lover, until she could reach for what she wanted.

_No. Running from you was the only real choice I made in over a decade. My foolishness knows no bounds._

Amélie regarded herself as a failure to the end, but found solace in the fact that Lena had given her the strength to decide her own fate.

_I’ll stay with you, ma chérie._

With one of Lena’s pulse pistols pointed at her temple, for the second time after promising to never kill anyone ever again, Amélie Lacroix ended a life.

_Je t'aime._

 

 

* * *

 

 

Viktor felt at ease that Josephine was safe, helping her up from the rubble. She had almost gotten herself killed, leaving him the sole survivor.

“Are you okay Josey?”

“Y-Yeah yeah! I would feel better if Doomfist had dealt with this… bastard already!”

Her seething gaze was attributed to the large crusader that was holding his ground against Doomfist. He was fighting valiantly, but lost his patience after watching the death of Tracer. Full of rage he gave the legendary Doomfist a run for his money, battering him with hammer strikes like a berserker.

“If the hangar is trapping us here, there will be no revenge for Graf at all! We have to hurry!”

The blonde agent followed his order begrudgingly, constantly looking back to the killer of her idol. They almost reached the aircraft, when another shot was heard, followed by something he had never heard before: Reaper crying out in terror.

“NO! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!”

Viktor couldn’t believe his eyes either.

Widowmaker, kneeling on the ground, had fired a pistol directly at her temple. The pulse round made her eyes and mouth shine in bright blue colors until her lifeless body slid to the ground beside that of Tracer.

The black clad villain wanted to run to the dead pair, even though it was much too late.

“There is no time, agent Reaper!”

Even if it was him, Viktor couldn’t have more people die here for a useless cause. Luckily, Reaper listened after brief hesitation. They ran to the aircraft, which was already starting up, engines roaring and hovering above ground level. Everything was happening in the time of split seconds now.

“This is only the beginning, Overwatch! All of you will fall in time, like those two did!”

Doomfist roared with delight, even for his battered state. For the last moments, he guarded the aircraft from Reinhardt’s fury, but suddenly another challenger appeared, roaring just as loud.

_“Ryūjin no ken o kurae!”_

Viktor couldn’t quite believe his eyes! There was a full blown, neon green dragon, striking Doomfist from behind. Yelling bloody murder and bleeding like a stuck pig, the hulking giant struck the ground and let off enormous shockwaves to cover his escape. With inhuman strength, he jumped to reach the landing feet of the aircraft.

Suddenly an impact rocked the aircraft that was certainly not coming from Doomfist. The pilot’s com flared up.

“We got a rocket trooper in the skies at 6 o’clock!”

Viktor looked out above and saw a blue clad soldier with a rocket pack to the back.

“Josephine, we need your drone defense!”

Without hesitation, her drones whizzed into action, terminating any danger to their escape.

As the huge hangar doors slowly closed below them, he could watch the enemy take just one more action. An angel like figure flew across the ruined battlefield towards the two corpses, glowing with holy light.

He knew this figure. He had seen the plans to reconstruct her gear in the Talon engineering department. The way she was glowing right now was a sign that she overloaded her Valkyrie suit, sending out a bright swarm of powerful nano bots to swiftly repair the damage of recently deceased patients and bring them back to life.

Viktor was torn at the prospect. The Widowmaker he met seemed like a nice person. What use was there in her death? Yet all their work, all their own casualties would be for nothing.

Suddenly he saw another figure run towards doctor Ziegler. It was Josephine.

_WHAT? She jumped?!_

“AGENT SANATA! COME BACK!”

Viktor was yelling after her in a stern voice, but his second in command would not be deterred.

He was looking for the rocket trooper as they would be defenseless now, but she seemed to have lost all interest in the aircraft, diving after Josephine.

All he could do was watch hopelessly as his second in command ran towards her target with crazed determination like a rabid hellhound. He remembered the medical reports of Graf’s death that Sombra had sent them before the briefing, signed by doctor Ziegler.

_Of course, she would take this last chance for revenge!_

An army knife at the ready in her left hand. Rockets, shuriken and bullets from the now active hangar turrets hailed towards her, but she had set her defense drones to protect her body in advance. Without Josephine's active guidance however, the drones were bound to miss deletions. Single shuriken pierced the veil, burying themselves in her thigh and shoulder, yet she ran on.

“ **Heroes never** -“

The cloud of bright yellow nano machines just about touched the corpses as Mercy was ripped out of the sky. The white clad doctor found herself pinned to the ground, Josephine sitting on top of her. Cold steel pierced her suit to stab deep into her flesh, between the ribs, again and again. Josephine was screaming like a banshee while doing so.

**“YOU LET HER DIE! YOU KILLED THE COMMANDER!”**

Viktor could see from the distance how the doctor spew blood as the knife entered her body for the fifth time. Just as the hangar ceiling closed before them, he could catch a glimpse of a huge hammer colliding with Josephine’s unprotected body in full force, most likely breaking every single bone in her body.

Then, with a metal thud, further vision was denied.

Viktor sat there, stunned.

 _A fitting end,_ he thought apathetically. _She died just like her idol._

 

 

* * *

 

 

The rest of the flight was largely eventless. At one point Doomfist heaved himself into the cabin from outside, closed the sliding door behind him and beamed a bright smile at his two partners in crime.

“That was outright exhilarating! Although I wish the gorilla would have met his fate.”

None of the other two inhabitants of the cabin commented on that. Reaper was leaning against a wall, arms crossed, and commander Trgiňa sat on a bench, legs spread and eyes cast downward.

“What? Are you two sad that you lost your friends?

Again, there was only silence. Reapers gaze would kill if it could. The large scientist just laughed cheerfully to himself as he bled out in the open, sitting down on the bench a meter away from Viktor.

“You know…”

Doomfist slowly dislodged the gauntlet and set it down, gently. It turned out that the scientist had a bionic arm underneath, as the fake skin gave way for a myriad of tools, from cutters and needles to syringes and even a blow torch. The large villain leisurely began surgery on himself.

“…if you thought this would have a happy ending, you haven’t been paying attention.”

Viktor snorted.

“I know that quote. A song of ice and fire?”

The big cyborg raised an eyebrow.

“The show actually. I’m impressed commander, that stuff is over 50 years old.”

It was weird to remind himself of old fantasy novels at this moment, but it helped to distract himself from the despair of having failed so many good soldiers.

“It does stand the test of time. Great writing. Hated the story though. Too much death.”

“Really? But that's the best part! It evokes such powerful emotions!"

The islander laughed out loud in a cheerful manner, all the while casually operating on his own open flesh.

"Still, a pity you don’t like it. There is so much inspiration to be had!”

Viktor stared at the huge man and wondered if he was in a dream turned nightmare. Then he contemplated where his life had gone wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Je t'aime. ~ I love you._  
>  _La cagué. ~ I fucked up_  
>  _Si no es problema para ti? ~ If you don't have a problem with that?_  
>   
>   
>  First of all, I'm so sorry that it took this long to write chapter 16!  
> A lot is going on in life, like moving to another country. And the fight scenes... oh so many fight scenes were a real headache to write.
> 
> But what do you think of the grand finale, dear reader?  
> There was so much tragedy in this chapter! Yet so many questions left unanswered! Who lives, who succumbs?
> 
> Let's find out together for one last time in the upcoming epilogue! ♡


	17. Epilogue: A Sad Attempt at being Funny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The curtain is about to fall. All that is left is to pick up the pieces.

He dreaded walking along this corridor alone.

In fact, he would rather not, but what choice did Viktor have?

_“Are you nervous?”_

That’s what he had asked Josephine the last time around when they were approaching the council chamber.

_Back when she was still alive._

The mere remembrance was tying a knot in his throat.

_You wouldn’t have to do all this alone if you’d been a better commander._

Viktor balled his fist and quickly grew to resent himself.

_You should’ve talked her out of petty revenge._

The pressure on his chest was too much for a second there. Viktor abruptly hit the side of his head to symbolically throw these thoughts out. Pain was the side effect. He could feel a headache coming.

_Fuck… How did Graf deal with this?!_

Keen to avoid any further inner turmoil, the Slav hurried his steps. A heavily ornamented, wooden oak door awaited him at the end of his lonesome walk. As he was opening it, he realized that he intruded in an ongoing discussion of Talon executives.

“…no value in it for us.”

“We don’t have the manpower or equipment right now to aid in such a personal, morbid request.”

The room was exactly as Viktor remembered it: A large screen, one spotlight in the middle and a lot of shadowy figures lording over it all on the surrounding balcony. Reaper was at the center of attention, staring upwards in silence as the distorted voices argued on.

“What about Reconnaissance?”

“Intelligence has also suffered losses, but we can certainly provide resources and information.”

“It is decided then. Our intelligence service is at your disposal for this matter, agent Reaper.”

Viktor had always been amazed how fast and efficiently the executives argued amongst themselves.

Reaper on the other hand didn’t seem in the least excited about the discussion going on above his head, to the point of turning heel to storm out of the room. His shoulder collided with the startled squad commander on the way out. They locked gazes for half a second, then Reaper left the chamber, slamming the large door shut behind him.

“Ah, commander Trgiňa. Please step into the light.”

Viktor needed a moment to compose himself and then complied.

“We read the reports. Three targets were eliminated.”

“Agent Reaper as effective as ever.”

“Despite his occasional… difficulties.”

“And even one elimination by your team, personally.”

“A huge success!”

That made him raise an eyebrow.

_Huge success, huh?_

Viktor wondered about that. He lost his whole squad, not to speak of Voclain’s platoon.

“With all due respect sirs, considering the lost agents I would call this mission a Pyrrhic victory at best.”

The room was silent for a few solid seconds. Viktor had not been able to restrain himself from speaking up, even though he knew better. In history, King Pyrrhus of Epirus barely defeated the Romans, but took so many casualties to his forces that his nation was practically unable to fight. Henceforth unsatisfying victories would be called Pyrrhic. 

“Nonsense. Every objective was met.”

“Eliminating Widowmaker was a necessary evil.”

There was a certain sadness in the last voice. That had to be the head of research. Nobody else up there would have any fondness for Widowmaker.

“The loss of life is tragic, sure.”

“But freeing the Doomfist alone makes up for that, tenfold.”

The commander wondered about that, too. From the brief exchange in the aircraft, Viktor had already figured Doomfist for an unhinged, genocidal maniac. Freeing him in exchange for killing an oddly fragile and frightened Widowmaker didn’t feel right in the slightest.

“No matter the degree, we congratulate you on a successful mission commander.”

“We feel a promotion is in order. As soon as we attain new manpower, you will be our newest platoon commander.”

“We also took the liberty to prepare a seaside estate for your pleasure.”

Viktor felt nothing.

“I feel honored. However, if it sits well with the council, I would request a leave from service for the next three months to spend with my family.”

“Denied.”

“Three weeks will suffice.”

“You are to book appointments with our psychological department for your mental wellbeing in the meanwhile.”

“After this interval, you will administer training for the new recruits that will serve in your platoon.”

_What did I expect. Why am I even still doing this?_

That question loomed over his head for the last two days.

“That would be everything. Oh and please tell your wife that Gisela is looking forward to the next Tupperware party at your new estate.”

_Oh yeah, that’s why._

The guy with the wife called Gisela was his general. The woman was one ugly bitch, but that wasn’t the problem here. Talon made it a point to take a big part in the life of their higher-ranking employees. This might not seem like much of a concern to the layman, but everyone in the upper echelons knew that this was to ensure compliance.

_Be a good little pawn, or else._

“I… will relay that message, sir.”

“Good. I know it’s a bit inappropriate here, but you know my schedule.”

“Are we done with the tea party invites, then?”

“Yes yes, on to the next point on the agenda. Dismissed, commander.”

Viktor didn’t have to get told twice. He could feel their eyes weigh heavy on him as he left the chamber.

“Now, about Voclain-”

A momentary shiver ran down his spine, as he could hear the beginning of a new discussion while closing the big, sound-proof door behind him. What about Voclain?

_Maybe he’ll get into witness protection. That’ll give him some time. Now his family though…_

He stopped himself. What would become of Viktor’s fellow commander was thankfully none of his concern anymore.

Not a step further, something suddenly took a hold of him by the shoulder. He was squarely pushed against the wall. Viktor coughed and looked up in surprise. Reaper had waited for him.

Viktor had no fucks left to give though and violently shoved the figure away.

“What the fuck do you want?!”

That turned out to be quite the error, as it only served to make his fellow agent angry. With a quick grab to the throat Viktor was lifted off the ground.

“You have stopped me before, commander. Remember?”

Gasping for air, Viktor clawed at the hand that held him. It was true, he kept Reaper from staying in that hangar to retrieve Widowmaker.

“So what?!”

“Now you will help me get her back.”

Reaper let go of his surprised future accomplice. After a few coughs, Viktor managed to get a few more words out while steadying himself on the wall behind him.”

“…get her? Why… the fuck would you…”

“To administer a curse.”

The cloaked villain slowly turned around, expecting Viktor to follow. The Slav played with the thought of defying Reaper once more, but curiosity got the better of him.

“I don’t understand… what curse… and why do you care anyway?”

He caught up, walking alongside Reaper down a few corridors towards the garage. There was almost a full minute of silence and Viktor already doubted that he would get his answer. As they got to their intended vehicle, a flashy black hover car, Reaper stopped to fish for the keys. After he found them, he stopped in his tracks and finally answered.

“Do you even realize how hard it is for someone like me to find someone equal to banter with?”

Viktor blinked a few times.

_So… he’s lonely?_

“That’s it?”

“What do you mean ‘That’s it’?! IT’S FUCKING HARD I TELL YOU!”

“Okay okay!”

Not wanting to anger his new partner any further, he entered the equally edgy looking hover car.

_I wish I had his problems…_

 

* * *

 

 

She awakened to the sound of little birds outside the window. Her eyes opened to a blue ceiling. She remained that way for a few more moments before looking to her side. Amélie had already left, neatly tidying up her side of the bed.

That made Lena smile.

Groggily she sat up on the queen sized double bed. She looked directly in front of her at a painting of Emilia Earhart. That woman had always been her hero, being the first to cross the Pacific Ocean in an aircraft. At one point, she mysteriously vanished, just like Tracer had. Only Emilia never returned.

Then Lena looked out of the open window. She saw the coastline of the Mediterranean, heard the sound of waves and maritime birds. It was her wish to move to the Provence, a beautiful province of France famous for its rich nature, wine and cuisine. Amélie had been pleasantly surprised by that.

It’s the closest thing to paradise that Lena could imagine.

She looked down at herself. Lena was wearing grey shorts and a grey tank top. The thought of changing into something more proper occurred to her, but she decided against it. As she stood up, there was a sharp pain in her left leg. Lena flinched and leant down to rub it a bit before moving on with a renewed smile.

Their new house had space for everything they wanted. All her aviation stuff fit neatly in with the ancient decoration style that Amélie favored.

_What did she call it again? Baroque or something?_

Walking to the open sided kitchen Lena grabbed an apple and took a bite while staring out the window again. Her chest was bursting with sudden excitement and happiness, prompting a huge smile. She couldn’t imagine a better future.

_Hmm… apple tastes like nothing._

Just after thinking that, the doorbell rang. Lena forgot all about the apple and threw it on the counter.

The door opened abruptly in front of Amélie. Before the French girl could get a word out, an awfully dressed Brit already ambushed her with a jumping hug! Giggling wildly, hugging her tightly with all her body and pressing kisses to the blue tinted neck, Lena made it hard for her new wife to navigate the entrance.

“ _Mon dieu!_ Please Lena, let me come in first at least!”

Amélie practically begged while trying to get rid of her own smile. Slowly she managed to close the door behind her before the neighbors would see.

“Never my luv! We haven’t reached the morning cuddle quota yet!”

Lena could feel her head getting plucked away from that lovely neck by a firm hand, only to smile stupidly into the French girls scolding gaze.

“That’s because you are absolutely impossible to wake up on weekends…”

“D’aww, liar! You could make me wake up! Just whisper to me that you want to have se-“

A quick kiss on her lips made Lena finally shut up. To add to that, she was shoved right against the next best, white wall in their living room. Lena loved to be dominated like that, for once. They enjoyed each other’s company for quite some time, before Amélie finally broke the kiss.

“Well… maybe I didn’t want to wake you up because you look cute when you sleep. …comment on that and I’ll throw you out the window.”

Lena smiled over both ears hearing that, but the stern voice kept her from getting a quip in. She had been thrown out the window a few times during their short marriage already. Instead Lena took the time to properly look at her dearest: Amélie was wearing a blue blouse and a short, beige jacket with matching trousers and black high heels. The impossibly large, beige hat that she had been wearing had been thrown off during their ‘struggle’.

“Sooo… how was it?”

Lena bit her lower lip in anticipation and stared impishly at her wife. Amélie in the meantime just sighed. She knew that Lena wouldn’t let go, so she carried her over to their couch and sat down with the brit on her lap. As result, even though Amélie was a lot taller, she had to look up to Lena now. While pulling a strand of her hair out of her own vision, she started to talk nonchalantly.

“Well, everything is going alright with the company. Stock is rising again and the new collection is about to come out...”

The company Amélie was talking about was her new past time in her post-Talon world: Being CEO of a fashion empire. She just started as a designer, but ruthlessly made her way up the ranks.

But that wasn’t important right now! Bumping up and down on the French lap, Lena could barely keep herself from exploding with curiosity!

“Luuuv, you know what I’m talking about!”

“Yes yes…”

The French girl smirked deviously. She loved to play with Lena like that, cupping her cheek and keeping her in suspense.

“The doctor said it is possible with your samples. Even with everything that was done to my body. In fact…”

A hand softly took hold of Lena’s and guided her down, under the blue blouse towards a flat, blue-tinted tummy.

“…the procedure succeeded, _ma_ _chérie_.”

Lena’s eyes went wide with wonder. She stared down, then up again, caressing Amélie’s tummy all the while with the utmost care. Amélie already knew, it was only a matter of time until the little Brit would explode with excitement. So it happened.

“We’re gonna have a baby!”

 

* * *

 

 

She suddenly woke up. Her eyes sprang open as her body was fighting for breath. They were instantly blinded by bright colors. Machinery was beeping right beside her. As she looked around panicking, she comprehended that she was in a white, clinical environment.

_Heaven?_

She tried to move, but her body hurt on the first try. Slowly, she forced herself to calm down and tried to sit upright. There was an overwhelming pain in her chest as she did so, but she pushed on until she sat in what she finally recognized as a hospital bed. Her blinking eyes slowly got used to the bright orb that was hovering over her head. That thing had blinded her the first time around.

_“Was zum…”_

Speaking was painful at first, prompting a hot searing in her throat. Angela tried to steady her breathing.

“Yo, awake already?”

The voice startled her to the point of yelping in surprise. She turned to the right, tracing the origin of the sound. Genji sat there in an unruly fashion, one foot with him on the seat. With one hand he held a glass of water outstretched in her direction.

Angela stared at the water. A shaky hand was extended and took it.

“T-Thanks..”

She began drinking, hydrating her dried up throat.

“You should thank her. I’m just the substitute for as long as she’s out.”

It took Angela a moment to fully comprehend what he meant, furrowing one of her eyebrows in the meanwhile. As she looked down, she saw a woman sleeping by the side of the bed, her head firmly planted on the mattress.

“Fareeha…”

“She was quite adamant about staying by your side. I think she was awake for about fifty hours before exhaustion finally took her.”

Her fingers softly caressed the features of the Egyptian soldier. Genji’s words made the Swiss woman shiver slightly as she bit her lower lip. It took Angela some time to remember everything that had happened.

“How… fifty hours… three days?”

“Two and a half.”

“Since I’m up… the doctor…?”

“Master should be here any second now. Winston called him here for your treatment. Please don’t mind his outfit. He has… a thing for human attire.”

“Wha…?”

Before she could further inquire what Genji meant, the door opened and made all explanations unnecessary.

A levitating omnic entered the room without so much as making a sound and moved towards his latest patient. He was wearing a doctor's overall that almost touched the ground, paired with a stethoscope around his neck and a goofy looking, shiny disc wrapped around his forehead. An entirely unfitting garb for the former Monk of the Shambali.

“I see doctor Ziegler is up and freshly hydrated.”

Angela had to seriously hold herself back, making a thin line out of her lips. If talking already hurt, she didn’t want to experience a laughing fit. Looking at Zenyatta made that quite hard, so she looked down at Fareeha instead. Caressing her let Angela focus on questions that needed to be answered.

“It is an… honor that you journeyed… here to see to my health.”

“Likewise, it is an honor to take care of the caretaker.”

The pain in her chest made the first question easy.

“I was… stabbed…”

“Nine times. If not for your Valkyrie suit, the wounds would easily have your body succumb. Though both have suffered greatly and need restoration.”

Genji took this opportunity to bow his head in shame.

“Pharah and I were too late. I am sorry Angela.”

“They both tried to compensate by staying at your side until you would wake up, doctor.”

“Master…!”

That made Angela develop a huge smile, just for a moment though. The pain took over quick enough.

_So he was here the entire time. I never knew Genji to be the humble type._

“What happened to Jack? And the girl that stabbed me…?”

“Both are on life support. Their whole bone structures are fractured, although commander Morrison is favored to live to fight another day thanks to your efforts.”

Relief was visible on the Swiss woman’s face. It was good to know that her attempt to save more lives hadn’t jeopardized Jack’s.

Still, the last memories before her blackout were what’s unsettling her the most. They practically imprinted themselves on her mind and caused momentary, violent shivers.

_‘YOU KILLED HER!’_

She almost lost her life because of the one person she didn’t save. Sandra Graf. Images of the sorry woman resurfaced in her mind. Graf was on Angela’s operating table, spitting in her face, wishing for her own death. If only her patient had known how others would mourn for her in earnest.

Mercy’s blue eyes looked up in a pleading gaze.

“Nothing… nothing comes off losing more lives. Can the girl still be… saved?”

The room was eerily quiet at the request. Incidentally, just as Genji broke the silence, Fareeha opened her eyes and listened sleepily.

“She almost killed you!“

“Revenge is not justice, Genji.”

Zenyatta had interjected calmly, prompting the cyborg to lower his head.

“Have you already forgotten the value of forgiveness?”

“I would never, master.”

The monk lowered his head, too, but in acknowledgement of his patient’s capability to forgive.

“She will be made whole in the warmth of the Iris.”

The injured doctor nodded at that, satisfied. She couldn’t demand more of the omnic. There was one more question left to ask, however. Already dreading the answer, her voice grew somber and unsteady.

“Lena, Amélie… Did they make it?”

She watched the people around her. Genji was avoiding her gaze, Fareeha sat up to hold Angela by the hand while Zenyatta slowly attempted to answer.

“Every cycle within the Iris-“

“Give it to me straight, please.”

The omnic nodded.

“Your ability managed to reach their bodies. We found that-“

With a loud **BANG** Zenyatta was yet again interrupted.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, every time…”

A large, sentient gorilla was standing in the doorway. He stared at the door he had just slammed to the point of breaking it out of the frame. As he did so often, the great ape hadn't exactly been paying attention. Winston carefully put the door back on its hinges and tested a few swings to see if it still worked.

“There we go, as good as new! Heh.”

Angela had held back all this time, but couldn't anymore. Stupid giggles forcefully escaped the Swiss woman while she held her hurting chest, looking back and forth between Zenyatta's unfitting garb and the door-swinging gorilla.

“You! How dare you barge in here?!”

Fareeha on the other hand was now fully awake and anything but amused upon witnessing Winston’s entrance. She stood upright within a second, bursting with righteous fury.

“Fareeha, what…”

Angela tried to interject, but couldn’t get anything more through. That small giggle had sent her into a coughing fit. In the meanwhile, Fareeha went off with the rage of a thousand stars, storming in the direction of Winston.

“It’s YOUR fault that Amélie got here!”

She jammed a finger at his chest.

“It’s YOUR fault that my mother died!”

Tension quickly rose to the roof in the small hospital room. Only coughing could be heard in the background, as Angela desperately wished that she could intervene.

“Pharah, I did what was-“

“You did what, kill your own agents with stupid orders?! And now you dare show your face here?! Do you want to admire your handiwork as living disgrace of the title ‘commander’?!”

They both stared at each other after that tirade. Winston looked more than uncomfortable in his skin, but also like this wasn't the first time he had to endure Fareeha's wrath. Genji looked equally uneasy.

Yet one omnic hand laid itself on Pharah’s shoulder, prompting her to look back at Zenyatta in disbelief.

“The patient needs peace and quiet.”

If not for the coughing, another moment of complete silence would’ve ensued. The room felt like a powder keg about to explode. After a short, concerned look back to Angela, the Egyptian forced the hand off her shoulder and stormed outside.

 

* * *

 

 

“I really think you should’ve stayed in bed.”

“You know I can’t do that. I have to see for myself.”

“I know, I know...”

Winston was not excited by the doctor’s insistence on coming along, but there was not a lot he could do. The woman was determined. So, they brought her a hover chair to move around and loaded her up in Winston’s comically small hover car. The sentient gorilla barely had enough space on his side of the vehicle, but insisted that this was the most responsible budget solution.

“So… how are things going after the incident?”

“We manage. The government is very insistent on getting their grubby fingers all over the case, as always. Then there’s Miss Amari’s funeral that’s coming up…”

Winston looked considerably exhausted at the prospect.

“Please… please don’t be mad at Fareeha. She doesn’t actually think all these things about you, I’m sure.”

That was news to him.

“Hmpf. How would you know?”

“Are you familiar with her career as security? The incident at that one omnic factory?”

“That… she was in charge, right? And almost her whole team died.”

“Exactly.”

The gorilla furrowed a big eyebrow and looked over to his Swiss companion. Angela sighed and explained further.

“I hear her talk in her sleep about that every night. She still feels she failed that mission as commander. I think she projects that guilt on you, too, even though she could be just as mad at herself, or Genji, or Talon or...”

“I get the idea.”

There was silence in the small cabin for a few moments. After a few turns, they were delayed at a red light. Angela used that moment to continue the conversation elsewhere.

“ATHENA told me that a hacker was responsible for the breach. What about that?”

“Oh, we have a new security consultant to upgrade our systems. ATHENA is madly in love with her, you wouldn’t believe it! Hehe.”

Of course the AI wouldn’t fall in love all of the sudden. Instead, ATHENA kept boasting to Winston how much more secure she now was and how efficiently sub routines could be hunted down thanks to a simple algorithm, a new trick that Sombra had shown her.

“Who would that be?”

“You’ve seen the girl that Hana bosses around?”

“The extravagant one with a love for pink and purple?”

“Yeah, that one.”

Angela had been amazed at the two of them. They were basically making out all over the base nowadays and these make-out sessions were always initiated by the little Korean.

“… I would have never thought that Hana had it in her to boss another girl around.”

“Really? Is that so rare? I thought it was normal for some people to want to act like alphas and others like betas.”

“Alphas and betas, huh? You shouldn’t really compare us humans to apes.”

“I’m not.”

Winston harrumphed, then continued.

“The concept of being subservient for fun is entirely human.”

Not sure how the conversation got there in the first place, both decided that this was enough small talk for the ride. The rest of the drive was fairly eventless and Winston finally parked his hover car in a modest parking lot of a big institute.

Minutes later they stood in front of the London mental asylum.

“There we are.”

After short hesitation, Angela followed on her hover chair behind Winston to enter the big facility.

“We’ll get there fairly soon. She’s held in a special wing across there, through the door. Just… be prepared.”

“I don’t know how I can be prepared for this.”

They went into the next corridor and approached a section with two windows, one on each side: The window to the left let in sunlight from outside and another, much larger to the right, showed the contents of a cushioned room. From the inside, one would only see a large mirror in the glasses stead.

Angela positioned herself in front of it. Her face fell as she saw what’s inside.

A small, lean figure was huddled against one of the cushioned walls. She wore a straitjacket and was continuously hitting the soft fabric with the side of her head. The girl had a happy smile on her face and empty eyes with a thousand-yard stare. She also talked to herself, but the room was sound proof.

There was one more thing of note about the girl: Only one foot remained to her.

“Lena…”

“Your ability reached only her in time, as you know. As soon as she became conscious and saw Amélie’s body, she was… gone, for the lack of a better word, as you can see.”

“Did you… try to snap her out of it?”

“When our medical staff moved to help her she… went furious with anybody who would interfere with her state for too long. You can do everyday necessities like feeding her, but the last doctor that tried to examine her body… well, he got his ear bitten off clean.”

Angela instinctively reached for her own ear.

“I… I could try to do something.”

“Only when you’re back on your feet. She’s not going anywhere, anyway.”

“Winston…”

“What?”

“That was quite inconsiderate…”

“Oh.”

They stared for a while at the broken girl inside the cushioned cell. She seemed to grow more excited by the second and had stopped to talk to herself. It looked more like she was listening to an invisible entity.

“Can we hear what’s going on in there Winston?”

“Oh, uh… there’s a button here.”

He pressed it in the moment that this broken husk of Lena was the most excited, not able to contain herself, yet continuing to hit her head against the wall.

_“We’re gonna have a baby!”_

Winston instantly let go of the button. Angela didn’t interfere. They both had heard enough.

“You heard that? She’s…”

The Swiss woman felt sick and needed to breathe steadily for a second there. So, Winston completed the sentence for her.

“… completely mad with grief.”

A palpable silence lowered itselves between the two scientists. They watched the broken girl for a long while, only interrupted when something on Winston began to beep. The great ape put a finger to his ear.

“Yes, ATHENA?”

Angela looked up to him. Of course, Winston would have a communication device on him as commander of Overwatch.

“An intruder, this morning? In the medical ward? … That old backdoor? Of course, they stole the blueprints…”

Slowly Winston lumbered away, looking at Angela a last time reassuringly before he began to issue orders in his baritone voice. Then he turned a corner and Angela was alone again, save for her former charge behind the one-sided mirror in front of her.

_That old backdoor, hmm? There's nothing important behind it…_

The Swiss woman found herself pondering about this odd happenstance.

_…only a storage room. The intruder would’ve tipped the alarm if they went too far into the ward. Common thieves would be likely but… they wouldn’t know about that old entrance. Talon stole the blueprints. What would they want?_

There was this nagging feeling in the back of her head, like she forgot something.

_Well, the morgue is right beside it._

Then Angela understood. Her eyes opened wider, especially as she felt a fresh breeze from the formerly closed window behind her. She whirled around to stare into a cloud of smoke that quickly formed the face of an old friend.

Widowmaker had changed. Her skin color had turned darker, into a more violet hue. Equally dark violet smoke made an accent on her restored features, wrapped in a tight bodysuit. She looked as beautiful as ever, only in a more devilish way.

“ _Schätzchen_ , wha… what happened to you?”

Amélie closed in on her.

“You tell me, doctor.”

 

* * *

 

 

After she had dealt with the doctor, Amélie used her new form to seep in between the cracks of the locked room’s door to form on the other side. She still needed to get used to this experience.

_How does Reaper live with that? It feels like getting… torn apart…_

The French girl shivered and hoped not to have to use this new ability all that much. Maybe he would’ve instructed her more on it, if she hadn’t slapped him and stormed out of that morgue. All she had needed to know was where they held Lena.

And there she was.

Amélie had already gotten a glimpse of her girlfriend from outside and suffered immensely at the sight. Even though this new hunger she felt was a powerful emotion, nothing compared to her connection to this now broken girl. In fact, she would have already ended her new, pitiful existence, if it wasn’t for the hope of seeing her girlfriend again.

“Lena...”

She knelt beside her. The broken girl had started rocking back and forth, whispering to herself unintelligible sentences. Two soft, violet arms slowly kept her from doing so, one on the little Brit’s back and one beneath her legs. In response, the rocking quickly evolved to a violent clawing at whatever was interfering with her dreams.

“Lena, stop!”

The command was instantly recognized. Lena did stop in everything she did, breathing excitedly. Her thousand-yard stare focused. She had to blink a few times, to accommodate on using her eyes again. The broken girl was visibly disoriented, until her hazelnut eyes finally found the source of the familiar voice.

“Oh. Hi there!”

Lena smiled happily, to the surprise of Amélie who slowly lifted the broken girl off the ground and into her arms after quickly untangling the strait-jacket, quite like a husband would hold his bride.

“What are you doing here, luv? That’s a really nice tan you got there! If I knew you’d come, I would’ve made some tea!”

Lena looked down at her situation, especially the strait-jacket.

“Oh. Hmm. Maybe not exactly personally...”

Amélie was stunned. She had been worried about a lot of things. Like Lena being too far gone to snap out of her situation. That Lena would be horrified at the condition that Reaper had forced on her. Instead she watched in awe as the little Brit just kept on yapping.

“But they have wonderful personnel in here! They would be happy to help, I’m sure! Maybe not the guy who got his ear bitten off, but he’ll come around someday. Uh, hey, are you okay luv?”

Tears were running down her purple cheeks. Even after death and injury, nothing had changed between them.

“ _Oui_. I’m… just happy to see you, _ma chérie_.”

“D’aww, I’m happy to see you too, ya big baby!”

Lena threw her arms around her love while giggling and kissed some tears off her cheek. Amélie returned the favor, holding her close. They cuddled for a while this way.

“ _Je t'aime_ , Lena.”

“Jet… tea? I told you I would’ve made some!”

That made the little Brit grumpy, giving her a pout. Amélie cracked up at that stupid, unintended joke.

“No! No… W-We can… have some tea later. That was French.”

“French? What was it?”

“I love you.”

They both stared at each other’s eyes. Lena was biting her lower lip as her cheeks grew ever more flustered.

“But… I wanted to say that first, darn it.”

“Oh. We could… start over?”

“No, that’d be stupid!”

“If you say so…”

“Just know that… I need you more than anything, okay?”

For once, the little Brit in her arms seemed to regain lucidity after days of madness. The merriness in her voice faltered as she allowed herself to remember.

“I think I’ve gone off the deep end then, as I… I saw you _dead_. I thought I lost you forever. I don’t know what’s real anymore, Amélie. I don’t care how you came back, or if you’re just another dream…”

Lena shivered and buried her head in Amélie’s shoulder, desperately wanting for it to be real. She was audibly fighting tears.

“Please, just… just promise me you’ll never leave me alone again… I need you _so much_ …”

A purple hand softly caressed the messy, brown hair of the head pressed to her shoulder. Amélie was oddly relieved at what she heard. She could deal with this much better.

She slowly encouraged Lena to show her face again, after she was sure that the little one wouldn't burst in tears at first sight. The Brit had an insecure look about herself, like the one Amélie had anticipated to begin with. She smiled at her little charge in a reassuring way.

“This is no dream, _ma chérie_."

Then she pinched her.

"Ouw!"

"See?"

Lena looked incredulous for a moment there, in the face of her girlfriend's smirk, but just couldn't be mad. A mischievous smile quickly replaced the look. Lena was overjoyed that her love really had come to rescue her, after all. Still, single tears made their way down Lena's face. Amélie went soft at their sight, gently stroking the area she had just abused.

"Running away from you was the worst mistake I ever made. Never again. I'll stay with you wherever you want to go, promise.”

That answer alone finally eased up the constant emotional strain of the last few days. It was everything Lena had ever wanted to hear, smiling shyly with pronounced exhaustion. A thought emerged, so Lena just asked.

“Wherever... Can… can we go to the Provence?”

Amélie raised a curious eyebrow. More small tears ran down the little Brit’s cheeks while she looked like a girl asking if they could go to Disneyland.

“Why there?”

“I heard it’s quite nice and… I wanted to learn French anyway.”

Amélie was pleasantly surprised by that. Going back to her homeland, far away from everything that happened here… what a comforting thought.

“ _Bien_. What are we going to do when we’re there?”

Lena’s eyes lit up at the question.

“I want a house at the coast! We’ll decorate it with aviation stuff and whatever Baroque is. There’ll be a huuuge queen sized bed for us! You’ll get a job as manager at a fashion company and-“

The French girl had heard enough, silencing the little blabbermouth in her arms with a long and passionate kiss. Lena quickly eased into it. Her little tears met with purple cheeks and finally intermingled with their lips at the kiss, turning it bittersweet.

A mechanical sound indicated that the cell door opened behind them.

“ _Na endlich!_ It took me a while to find a doctor with the right key card, but… oh, you two!”

Lena blinked a few times and softly lifted the kiss. She interlocked gazes with Amélie for one more second before peaking over a violet shoulder.

“Hi there, mom! We’re going to France!”

Angela was a bit shocked at that greeting. Then she smiled and shook her head, immensely relieved that Lena was okay once more.

“I… would advise against it. But I’m not exactly in a position to stop you two, so…”

As Amélie was leaving the cell with Lena on her arms, she leant down to Angela, laying her cheek against that of her best friend. Lena grinned at her from the other side in the meanwhile.

“Thank you for everything, _mon oisillon_.”

“Oh don’t be like that, we’ll see each other again.”

“That’s for sure mom!”

“Now go, before Winston talks some sense into me…”

A last time, the three of them shared a giggle. Then Amélie moved on with the little Brit on her arms. Halfway through the window, the doctor’s voice called out to them again.

“Take good care of her!”

“I will!”

Both had answered simultaneously. Lena giggled stupidly at that while Amélie just rolled her eyes.

“And… call me once in a while!”

There was no further answer. Angela sighed. They were gone.

 

* * *

 

 

A mere moment later, a sentient gorilla turned around the neighboring corner, looking quite concerned.

“Angela! They broke into the morgue, Widowmaker’s corpse is-“

“-running around in security camera footage?”

“How did you…”

Winston blinked a few times at his colleague who was still staring out of the open window. Then he looked around some more and found Tracer’s cell to be empty.

“You let them go like that?”

“What is a doctor in a hover chair supposed to do?”

“Come on now. You of all people are the one who could’ve stopped them at all. There’s no telling what Talon did to Widowmaker this time and-“

“Ah ah. You hear yourself, Winston? That’s why I let them go.”

Winston harrumphed again.

“They both need intensive psychological treatment after what happened.”

“I think what they need most right now is each other.”

The Swiss doctor continued to stare outside so adamantly, that Winston started to do the same. With a quiet sigh, the scientist set himself down on his behind and opened a can of emergency peanut butter that he tended to carry around with him.

“And what makes you say that, Angela?”

She thought about that for a moment, leaning her head back to stare at the ceiling instead.

“They both looked like they lost a large part of themselves. When I saw them together though, arm in arm, it felt like they were whole again.”

That feeling preoccupied her a few more moments.

As she looked over to Winston, she saw him making the face that he usually made when he feigned to understand human stuff. Shaking her head, Angela leaned in to scoop up some peanut butter for herself. Winston didn’t like that.

“It’s like with you and peanut butter.”

She licked it off her fingers with a teasing smile. Winston didn’t like that either.

“We better leave them alone, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Was zum... ~ What the..._   
>  _Na endlich! ~ Finally!_
> 
> This is it, the end of my first fanfic.  
> I would like to take a moment to thank my many proof readers over the course of the story: _Sandra, Sneky, Ruby, Niels, Sanata and Viktor._ The biggest thanks however goes out to you, dearest reader. Thank you for reading and commenting on my fanfic. I hope you enjoyed it thoroughly!  
>  Speaking of enjoying, I'm dying to know what you think of the epilogue and the story as a whole.  
> Feel free to leave a comment. Since I pretty much poured my lifeblood into this, I'll be reading your thoughts even years down the line. ♡
> 
> On a last note: I've started another Widowtracer story called 'Selfmade Fanservice'. It's a light-hearted attempt to come to terms with Emily's introduction. Maybe you'll like that kind of story ♡


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